Below the salt
This is a difficult entry for me to write.

I remember the first time I came across the Theodish rite of "worthing" a couple of years ago. I'm not keen on Theodism for a variety of reasons, chief of these being that it's a system which focuses too intently on reconstructing the past rather than attempting to build a healthy, living form of heathenry for the future (and that many of its chief proponants need to clean their politics out with a pistol-grip hose, but I digress). But when I read about the practice of worthing, I literally choked up and my eyes filled with tears. Not because I thought it was stupid, or cruel, or damaging; not because I thought it yet another mindless assualt on personal liberty and rights in the name of heathenry, but because I was eaten up with a kind of sorrowful envy.

"Worthing" refers to the practice of undertaking a year's apprenticeship within the Theod, as a way of exploring that system and better understanding if it is right for you, and also of demonstrating to the broader community your commitment and ability--proving your worth. The person entering into this apprenticeship ritually sells hirself into thralldom to a senior member, and spends a year serving under that person before being formally granted hir freedom and membership of the group. (A bit like joining an old-school leather family.) Obviously such a system relies on the thrall's "owner" being an upright and ethical person, since the potential for abuse and exploitation is very clear; yes, the thrall can walk away at any time, but when you're dealing with the kind of heavy emotional investment inspired by powerful drives such as personal spirituality and the need for community acceptance things aren't that simple. Evidently, though, plenty of people make it through the process successfully, finding it meaningful and rewarding.

And when I read about that I was honestly heartbroken, because I would so much love to have that kind of "worth" myself. I would give a very great deal for the opportunity to accomplish something like that--not necessarily in the form of servitude (I suspect I am constitutionally unsuited for thralldom), but I genuinely crave the community-sanctioned "worth" that comes from having undergone some kind of formal process involving the service of that community. It's not a matter of acceptance, exactly: I have found acceptance and kinship among various groups and I value those things very dearly. But all of those good things I've been gifted with feel exactly like that--like gifts; they demonstrate no worth of my own but the generosity, compassion, and hospitality of other folk. None of it feels earned. What I bring to my various communities, and to the Northern Tradition in general, is terribly slight. I have come to my Gods rather late in life, not for want of opportunity but for want of courage and resolve; I am constantly playing catch-up. I can boast of no new discoveries in the field of scholarship--I'm just learning what other people have already revealed. I can boast of no material contribution. I can't even boast of any contribution in the more nebulous field of mysticism or magic, since again I am years behind and simply replicating the work that others have already done. When I am challenged, when I am asked "what did you bring to the table, what have you contributed," I don't have a good answer.

It is not good things from others that I lack, not good friends and osk-kin, not generous gifts or advice or kind words. It's that sense of having well-earned my place, of being able to point to some formal accomplishment or service and say "there, I did that; I made that contribution, I underwent that process"--that, I don't have and likely never will.