The three mysterious beings Urd, Verdandi and Skuld dwell beneath Yggdrasil watering the trees roots and weaving the warp and weft of life for gods and men.  None can escape it and in fact most relish the challenges that lay on the path.  We stand proud in the fact that we are charged with making our life our own and we do not have to ask permission or beg for opportunities.  We simply make them and the gods are always at our side to lend direction and a hand when we ask or need.  However, there is an inescapable portion of Wyrd than many like to ignore.  For example, Odin is quite aware of Ragnarok and while his understanding of Seidr and Runes make it possible for him to delay ragnarok, he cannot prevent its coming.  It is written, carved on the tree and it must come.  The same holds true for the fates of the gods and for us.  There are things that must come, things that have been written that must be accomplished, overcome, created and completed.  And so, there are times when the fates intervene.

I have always been one to make my own way.  My poor mother was given a very independent and adventurous child as her first.  The circumstances of "what was" in my life caused me to hone my skills in listening to my intuition, questioning everything in my surroundings and to find a way to turn every situation into an opportunity and be very aware.  My father instilled in me, from a young age, to review all options and choose the best way forward.  My own personality made this training from my father very easy.  I am analytical, practical, pragmatic, industrious and always curious to know what is next.  But I like order and a good plan, the three ladies?  Not so much.

I have found in my life, that I can chart a course, work out the plan to accomplish what I want to do and somewhere along the way it abruptly changes.  It happens to all of us and that is the exact purpose of those events that knock us off our feet, take our breath or leave us wounded.  There is either something to learn, something to change, or a new opportunity that we must embrace.  For me, it is usually because they want to get my attention, or get through to me with a message, or to help me see and utilize a talent or skill that is needed.  And the ladies always use the most unusual circumstances to get through to me and change my course.

Since the coming of fall last year, my soul has been pensive.  Something was changing, brewing, and I could not quite see or hear.  Everything I tried to create left me empty.  Writing had stopped.  I couldn't find the answer in books or music or meditation or simply staring at the stars.  So the Norns used illness.  Illness in MY house, in my people, beginning with my husband and then eventually coming to me.   I slept, unable to rise, giving only weak responses to questions as to my needs.  In this illness riddled sleep, I journeyed, wandering through the subconscious realms of quests and sagas.  Much of it was lost to my conscious mind, with only glimpses of scenes left in my brief waking moments.  The morning my energy began to return, I walked into the kitchen and the sunlight.  The rooms seemed fresh, clear, more defined.  Every color was noticeable.  I stood in the kitchen preparing breakfast and flashes of dreams would race through my mind like movie trailers.  Some were confusing, some were garbled but a couple of them caused panic to rise in me and I became dizzy.  Where had I seen that?  Was that a movie I had watched?  Was that from my dreams?  I took my tea and sat outside on the step in the cool morning air.  There it was, sanity.

January has been a month of illness and death, not beginnings.  I know of three matriarchs that left this world, my mother-in-law included.  I know of many strange illnesses, circumstances and events that have brought abrupt changes into families. In all of these things was the message. Most of my life has been spent as a warrior, strong, valiant and crusading, seeking to right wrongs and set tru the path.  I was born for it and I trained and disciplined myself well and while I will always have that strength and discipline, the role of warrior no longer serves me.  Apparently it doesn't serve the three ladies either.  

So back in my mountain home, I gazed around at the brightness, the renewal that seemed to have fallen on everything while I slept and I recognized the message at last.  All the darkness, the chaos, the change, the sickness, could be, would be transformed by healing.  Healing.  A word I had not identified with for a long time but was reawakened in my bones and with that comes the ability to create. The Norns are compelling me to meet and know, the ancient wisdom my ancestors gave me in my bloodline. To go deeper into the mysteries of that art than I had dared before.  A line of healers nudging me, whispering to me and finally knocking me over to get my attention.  Sometimes that's what it takes.  If we are going to survive this current monumental transition (ask any well studied astrologist or seer) we will need warriors, yes, but we will need healers.