The Lesson of the Norns

by Raven Kaldera

Nornir6The Norns are choosy about who they work with. It's almost impossible to coax them into taking you on as a student. Generally, the teaching has to be brokered by your patron deity. It's important to remember that the Norns do not owe anything to anyone else, God, wight, or human, and no one can tell Them what to do. In many ways They are the most powerful beings in the Nine Worlds, because they are the agents of cosmic laws that even the Gods must abide by. Wyrd trumps everyone and everything, every time. Therefore, the Norns can afford to be choosy. Therefore also, it is understandable why They are so, given the importance of their Work.

This lesson is not written in the format of all the other ones, because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get Their words to come out in a dictated lesson. I expect that is because They don't want it that way, for whatever reason. There's also that the Norns don't exactly communicate in straight sentences. This is something that others have noted. It's unclear why. I'm sure that They are quite capable of it, but They prefer to communicate in images and cryptic words. It's highly annoying, and very difficult to transcribe to any useful purpose. Therefore, what I write here can only give you the flavor of what it is to work with the Norns. Truthfully, since they take on very few people - and that includes spirit-workers - it is unlikely that you'll get lessons from them, but if you do, make sure that you never abuse the privilege. Remember that these are beings that no one else in the Nine Worlds - not Odin, not Hela, not anyone - can tell what to do. Even the Gods are subject to them and their weaving.

I worked for the Norns twice, each time for about a month. I paid for those lessons with my own labor, in handwork and in cleaning. That seemed to be what They wanted most: fiber arts handwork such as spinning and embroidery, and cleaning of anything that needed it. I would dedicate the energy of my working to Them, and while I was working - doing dishes, scrubbing, stitching - I would get the strange feeling that I was also cleaning or sewing something else as well, something that I was not allowed to see. The first time I spun and stitched; the second time I set up a loom and wove. Both times were heavy on the cleaning.

Several hours of scrubbing and stitching earned me a few scant minutes of lessoning. I would lay down and go into trance, and almost immediately I would have the sensation of falling from a great height toward the huge tapestry that is Their Work. It was so immense that I could only focus on a tiny piece of it at a time; its multicolored expanse stretched away in a curve like the rim of a planet that I was diving at. Each time, I landed on my own Thread, because They wanted me to start there. I was told to look for Threads that were attached to mine, or wound around it - my partners, my child - and study them, since I knew them fairly well. I was warned not to look forward to their deaths, or mine, as we were not to have that information yet and anyway, the future was not entirely set and to look at it might change things for the worse. There was a cold tone to that order that kept me from looking that far along the Threads, no matter how great the curiosity.

Then I was told to look at Threads that merely crossed mine, even if only for the moment. Some barely touched - acquaintances, people who had recently crossed my path, or were going to do so soon. This is what I would be looking for in a client, and if they were sitting in front of me I could use my own Thread as a reference point, since we would be crossing each others' paths at that moment. I was told to follow it as it wove along the surface, crossing other Threads - to this day I cannot describe the more-than-three-dimensional appearance of the Weaving, but somehow the Threads managed to cross each other in my sight without going beneath the surface of the fabric, which would mean births or deaths - and look for tangles and knots. Then I could "land" on that Thread and touch that knot or tangle, and "see" the problem.

Then came the next part - how to solve it. My first thought was to yank on the Thread and try to pull it out, but I was sternly discouraged from doing this by the Norn-voice. There was a vague and tumultuous vision (most of Their instructions, if you could call them that, came in the form of being hit over the head with brief and intense flashes of vision) of blindly pulling on something which pulled on something else which pulled on something below the Weaving and threw a whole bunch of other things out of whack, and me realizing that something was going wrong, letting go, and having part of that Thread recoil and wind around mine, sticking me to the problem. Right. None of that. So what to do?

A hand around mine - Urd's? Verdandis? Skuld's? - and my hand was wrapped around the knot and thrust beneath the surface. It was like sticking my hand into icy water, and it hurt. Wait. Wait. (What am I waiting for?) Then, slowly - agonizingly slow, considering that my astral hands felt like they were freezing - a vision came of the individual doing some action, or series of actions...what they should do to unwind that knot. Them, not me.

The second lesson of the Norns, I cannot write about. They won't let me, and what They want, They get. But this one should give the beginning spirit-worker a good idea of what to expect from them, unless they do something entirely different with you...and why wouldn't they? No man can predict them, even in their inevitability...which tells us something about true inevitability, doesn't it?