Sacrifice

Better no prayer | than too big an offering,

By thy getting measure thy gift;

Better is none | than too big a sacrifice,

-Hávamál v146, Bellows translation

We all make sacrifices, but sometimes the thing that we must sacrifice is ourselves. We make an offering of our blood and being to the gods, to our families, our relationships, and our communities.

Sometimes we choose what we sacrifice, but sometimes we are chosen. The chooser of the slain moves amongst the crowd, and before we realize it we are called to sacrifice. Lifted up before the assembled masses, noose around our neck, we hang until there is nothing left.

When we wake the you that was is gone, dead, and the you that stands before is forever changed. Our younger selves sacrificed to the past. You are dead, and yet here you are. You can wallow in the darkness of your former self, or you can get up.

Pain is the beginning, but you are not alone. I see you. The gods and ancestors see you, and together we honor your sacrifice and your fight. Keep fighting, keep getting up.

Blood flows, but you only have so much. Better no offering than a gift too great, wise are you who knows when to give and when to keep. We would keep you, if you would but stay. No good can come of a corpse.

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