Runes and Grief 11: Sowilo

Here we are at night eleven, and the randomly-pulled rune is Sowilo. Sowilo: Sun, illumination, movement, will, nurturing light.

Sowilo's Norse poem: Sun is shield of the sky/ and shining ray/ and destroyer of the ice.

After the death of a loved one, we can feel frozen (Isa) and still. It can feel as if we will never be able to move freely again, we will never advance, that this grief will never lift. Some people feel physically cold while mourning (I have).

I can tell you that eventually you will warm up again, and that it will be impossible to believe that at some points along your path of grief.

When my friend died, another friend and I were tasked with writing her obituary. We went to a restaurant, and as soon as we sat down, Bill Withers' "Ain't No Sunshine" came over the speakers, and we deflated. It was true on a soul-level. Our sunshine was gone. She would not be back to this plane in her beloved form.

We did manage to write the obituary, which is a hard thing to do; summing up a life in three-to-five paragraphs. So much energy, so much light, so many sharp shadows - how can we fit this into column inches in the paper?

I wish I could say that, on dying, we release our energy into the world. Maybe we do, and maybe it's strong energy, but unlike the sun, it is agonizingly temporary (and even the sun itself is - though, luckily, its lifespan is well longer than our own). Be that as it is, what we do before death is the important thing.

How do we, in our short time on Earth, and with the knowledge of our inevitable end, continue to grow? We step into the sunlight. We think of the power of Sowilo to sprout the seeds within us, to give us energy to move forward. We direct our metaphorical chariot with the surety of Sunna directing hers across the sky. We absorb light, and we cast our light - realize the power we have, and decide whether we will use it to help ourselves and others grow, or if we'll use it to lay waste - burning the fields of dreams.

My friend used her light to chase away the shadows haunting some of us and guiding us to better paths. She lent us her glow when we had trouble finding the sun itself. She drove her chariot with a laugh and with a care toward not running people over. Her light was strong and nurturing.

I hope to follow her example like day follows night.