Runes of Grief Day 3: Nauthiz

Nauthiz. Need. Needfire. Lack. Inner resources.

Nauthiz, as I have mentioned before, is often read as a negative rune; you are lacking something. This is not the whole story, though. The symbol itself is a bow drill - a stick with a string (usually attached to another piece of wood shaped like a bow). The string, which is wound around the stick, is worked back and forth, creating friction that, with the proper kindling, starts a fire. You have the tools to provide for your need.

In times of grief, needs still have to be met, basic things like feeding yourself or the person grieving. Life does go on, though it hurts and will not be the same. Nauthiz encourages us to identify the needs we have - food and practical help at the basic level, emotional support at the higher level, and healing at the highest level. We also have to identify the resources we have, both inner and outer, that will help us meet these needs.

Just as working a bow drill is not always easy, and takes time, identifying what you or your bereaved person needs is not always simple. Asking for help is something that can be hard to do, and summoning up that inner ability to do it is a chore.

What you also have in you are the lessons you gained from knowing the person who has died, or being in the situation which has passed. There will be positive lessons, negative lessons, and all are important. Some will become driving forces - strengths of string and wood. Some might become kindling - that which is best to let go of, burn up, turning the waste into energy. Identifying what is what in all of this is part of the process of grieving.

In looking at my own grief around my father, I see the string of soft-heartedness and love, the stick of humor and learning, and the kindling of the years we did not have together as I was growing up. The driving force of building my needfire is love. The point which meets the challenge is humor. The kindling from which I create new things is the letting go of anger and sadness for what we did not have. In the smoke I see memories of what we did have, and the seeds of stories that might have been.

Letting go and thinking of what might have been? It seems contradictory, doesn't it? It does. It is! What feeds my stories of what might have been is extrapolating from what was and seeing the intentions of both of us. Knowing it would have been good time spent together has become a comfort because I claim the love we had for each other even in our absence as valid and ours.

In doing this, I meet the need I have for my father. I give us both the gift of continuing love. I continue our adventures. He is still alive in my heart.