On a warm spring day in mid-March, my sisters three and I ventured off the Allerton Park trails into the wild wood in search of antlers. At the head of the trail – before crossing the hedge to begin our quest – we made due offering. The landwights received beer at a three-way crossroads, for the Dvergar we poured beer and goldschlagger on the exposed roots of a great tree, and a bottle of beer we upturned as well for the Horned God and the Mighty Stag. Gifts goodly given we set off on our adventure into the woods. Together we began our seeking, but with time our course divided and we found ourselves on our own little adventures, not physically far from one another but worlds away in spirit.
On my not-so-quiet course I found myself spiraling in and around to my center with the woodland spirits chattering away in my left ear. The prize is at the center. Let exhaustion take you. Fall into yourself, awake in the underbrush, stand and stumble upon the duir. Turn the key. Compelled, I followed their instructions. The wild denizens of my twisted inner forest came stampeding over me. Feral issues roared through me. Incredibly painful. Naudhiz-Necessary. I cried. I fumed and spat, then I cried some more. The lessons are hard and ongoing.
Nauð er Þýjar þrá
ok þungr kostr
ok vássamlig verk.
Constraint is grief of the bond-maid
and state of oppression
and toilsome work.
~ The Icelandic Rune Poem for Naudhiz with English translation, from Wikipedia