Not long ago I woke up to a photo of the Northern Lights forming what a Phoenix rising. The first thing that came to my mind, was rising to do the daily grind. Ugh. Just like the guys in Valhalla. Wait, what is the difference? Right here, right now. I am in Valhalla.
Not the Valhalla that comes to mind where Odin sits in his nightly hall where the souls of the battle slain are raised each day to join in mortal combat only to rise and feast each evening and laugh and brag of the day’s battles. All in preparation for Ragnarök, or the final battle in which all the God’s would perish.
That is thumbnail treatment of the story to say the least, and I am not clear on the end yet, but the first half makes sense.
The warrior class at the time was the standard as is the “middle class” or higher in modern times. Both involve getting up each day and going through the same repetition. You learn to love it because it leads you to the place you have been shown to go.
To make it in the middle/upper class, most people are conditioned to follow the strict 40 per week, eight-hour day grind. Like it or not. You know there was at least one Viking in that mead hall saying as he rolled out of bed, “Dude, love the feast, but I really don’t want to get cut in half again today.”
You are free, but you are free to be, free to be this, whatever “this” is; a warrior or an accountant. Granted, this is painting with a very broad brush, but in my own awareness, that is a Valhalla I do not want to visit.
I prefer freedom from all things. That is not to so I do not to care for anything, but rather I care only for those things I choose to, and if I focus on doing that as best as I can, then I have done me best. The question of how to provide is not about how one provides for him or herself, but where is it that everyone cares for each other?
That is the place to care about, and that is a place where things make sense. The way things used to make sense before Ragnarök, before we got cut in half.