Free Will, the Norns, and Destiny

Imbedded deep in the ancestral faith is the understanding that there is no "blind fate" but rather self-creating power over destiny itself. Recorded on the 4th of September 2023.

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I recently participated in a somewhat heated discussion about whether, as Ásatrúars, we believe in “free will.” Several folks made the argument that, within our Germanic belief system, there is no such thing as “free will” —all is predetermined. Essentially the point was that, not unlike Macbeth and others, we cannot escape our fate. I was among those who strongly disagreed with this position. While matters of fate and destiny (wyrd) play a significant theme throughout the lore, the concept is best captured by the Norns — who are constantly weaving our wyrd. It is worth considering that nowhere in the lore do we encounter an image of Norns sitting around a finished garment — sipping tea and admiring their completed work.

The images of the Norns and wyrd throughout the lore are associated with “weaving” and “spinning” — from the spinning wheel. Wyrd is constantly in motion, so to speak. It is not woven and it is not spun—but rather it is constantly in a state of weaving and spinning. From the standpoint of language, the words used are present participles not past participles. So why might some argue that all is predestined? Oddly, one of the main objections to “free will” seems to be that Christians argue for it and claim to possess it. Therefore, the simple dichotomy emerges, "If Christians are for it, we must be against it!" Such thinking however flies in the face of scholarship, dogma, and even a reasonable understanding of why Christians might say such things. To begin with, the principle thinkers of the Protestant Reformation argued strongly against free will. Martin Luther argued in his 1525, On the Bondage of the Will that people were unable to choose between good and evil based on their own will power. Luther wrote of free will that “it is nothing at all!” John Calvin similarly argued against free will and for predestination. He argued that God appointed the eternal destiny of mankind—providing grace to some and eternal damnation to others. Calvin wrote, “Free will is an empty term.” So why might Christian believers in the various sects that rose up following Luther and Calvin assert that they have free will? First, few work their way through dense works of theology from the sixteenth century. Second, and important to my thoughts is that, largely as descendants of the Germanic Culture that stretched across Europe, we share a collective unconscious that long pre-dates the arrival of Christianity in our ancestral homelands. Just as most Christians don’t believe in a literal “resurrection of the body,” neither do they believe in “predestination” regardless of Church doctrine. Despite the power and duration of Christianity throughout Europe, the old beliefs remain strong, even in the offspring of those who long ago “converted.”

To better understand what the ancient Germanic tribes believed, we may look back to the Proto-Indo-European (PIE) language and consider what is today largely thought of as an Eastern concept, “karma.” This term is often misunderstood and interpreted by many as some sort of divine justice that spans multiple lifetimes. The popular thought could include the idea that someone who kills insects, for example, would be reincarnated as an insect themselves. Such thinking is mistaken and shrouds the importance of the idea. Karma literally means “action.” It teaches that there are consequences of actions. Guido von List argued at the beginning of the twentieth century that the ancient term “Garma” predated the word karma and later developed into various modern German-language words where the root “gar” means “to ferment” and “gähren” means “to be transformed into one’s self.” For List, beyond “destiny,” Karma meant “making one’s self transform within one’s self, by means of one’s self.” In The Transition from Wuotanism to Christianity, List draws a sharp distinction with what he calls the “obscured weakening” of the doctrine of Karma as espoused by the practice of Buddhism and the original Proto-Indo-European concept, in that Garma is not viewed as “an unavoidable fate, but rather as a self-created destiny, which serves to increase [one's] power.” List contrasts this with giving one’s self over to an “unavoidable fate” in which one ameliorates the consequences of a life poorly lived through some type of penance.

The great example of this idea in our lore is, as I noted above, the Norns. The very names of the Norns themselves are telling. The oldest of the Norns is Urda. Her name means that from the beginning [Ur], she has been there [da]. The second is the ever-evolving “present,” Verdandi. The third, Skuld’s name is associated with the concepts of “debt” and even “guilt.” We may see then that if our actions are are good — that a positive credit accrues, if bad, then “debt” accrues over our lives. Skuld is veiled, as is our future. It is uncertain — and undetermined because, it is being woven by the Norns —and by our actions.

The argument against “free will,” proposed by our fellow Ásatrúars, seems to take the form that we are not free to do anything we might want to do. It’s true that I can’t wake up today and do anything I choose. I may be limited by commitments I’ve made (to work, to family, etc.). I may not be able to purchase anything I want or travel anywhere in the world because I lack the financial means to do so. A good analogy for the concept of Garma or destiny may be a game of chess. Half-way through the game one’s pieces now occupy various spaces on the board based on the many moves that have preceded. Certain pieces may have been “captured” and removed from the playing field. It remains uncertain if I can win the game — but my next move is not predestined. I have many moves that I can make. There are others, however, that I cannot. I can’t restore that captured pawn to the playing field. My rook may have another piece blocking its ability to move. I may only be able to move my Knight into a position that puts it in danger of being captured. In other words, we find ourselves in a place based on the moves that have already occurred in our lives. Where we end up —and whether we win — is still dependent on the moves that we make in the present. List indicates that the thinking of our ancestors was positive by nature. They would not say, “because I made that bad first move with my pawn, I’m destined to lose this game,” but rather ask “what moves may I make, to gain certain victory?”

A further argument opposed to "free will," is that of divination. How can there be divination if, through free will, we can alter the outcome? Those who practice such forms with the runes, or other forms of augury, understand that the answers to the questions asked may change over time. The ancients considered not only their various forms of augury, but the stars and various astrological signs. It may be that if I launch a particular military action today, that it will end in a resounding defeat. If, however, I launch it at the time of the full moon or other astrological event, that my victory will be assured. Here the planets and stars as well as the timing of the act play significantly into the consequences. When we consult the runes or other methods of divination we are provided an answer - that requires interpretation — but is accurate only for this present moment. It tells us that, should we continue on this course, here is the outcome that will follow. We may change our “next move'” we may delay until a better astrological timing; we may better prepare for what is to follow.

When Odin (Wuotan) becomes aware of the pending Ragnarök, he doe not surrender and wait idly for certain doom. The lore tells us that the “All Father”— the all-knowing one— prepares by selecting and collecting the greatest of warriors —the Einharjar — to comprise a mighty army. Odin recognizes that his actions and preparations can change the outcome of the forthcoming battle. It is only those profoundly overcome by negativity who fret that Odin’s actions did little good, for the Gods were destroyed by the enemies at that so-called “final battle.” Rather the Voluspá tells us that, following the great battle, “I see green again with growing things the earth arise from out of the sea.” It tells us of the Aesir once again meeting “on Itha Plain” and recounting tales of “the mighty Midgard Serpent” and Odin’s “unfathomed runes.” And very importantly, it tells of a time when “the golden figures” (sometimes mistaken to be simply game pieces, not unlike Chessmen), “the far-famed ones, (the Gods themselves!) will be found again.” 

Through our actions, we can transform ourselves and create our destiny. The outlook which embraces such thinking is what we call the "heroic." It is ultimately diametrically opposed to the outlook of the "victim." As Ásatrúars we take responsibility for our actions and accept the blame for our failures. We don’t blame the Gods, the Norns, our position in life, or destiny. We recognize that life is ultimately “challenge.” We take on that challenge cheerfully regardless of the odds that may be stacked against us. Each of us still has time to change the road we’re on —and to perform the deeds that will shape our destinies. 

Indeed, the future is unwritten.