kylec | Slow Havamal: 82

In the 82nd verse, we’re told to chop firewood when the wind begin to blow, to row on calm seas, and court a lover at night when few are watching; to prize a ship for speed, a shield for its protection, a sword for its sharpness, a woman for her kiss.

The two halves of this verse advise us to do things at the right time, and value things for the right reasons, respectively. A cold autumn wind reminds us that the firewood stack should be higher than we think. A calm sea invites sailors, and the night will obscure us and guard us from certain troubles in pursuing a lover. These things can be done at any time, but there are times when they are more fruitful.

Our culture values an on-demand cadence to life. You should have takeout food, movies, and lovers at your fingertips. Why wait for five-day shipping when you can pay a little more for two-day shipping? We are told that our lives are busy, that no one has time for the wasteful tasks that prevent us from acquiring and enjoying, from tending to our business, or cutting to the chase. Lost is the seasonality of the past, when there were no strawberries in Winter, and a new book had to wait until there was good reason to go to town for a number of other necessities.

It’s clear that some things should be done before it’s too late, as with chopping wood, or when we are safest, as with the lover. Though we may want it other times—and perhaps today we can have it—it is the co-incidence that makes a thing right, as though we are an equally essential ingredient. The whole that comes from the joining of myself and my object of desire at a given time isn’t as wonderful if one of those aspects is off. Less obvious is that when all is at our beck and call, there is less value in it. We can put forth less effort, and less planning. We don’t have to develop patience, learn to go without for a time, or adapt. The ubiquitous and easy loses its wonder.

In the second half, we return to a recent theme: the value that we see in other things. Remember that value requires an observer. A sword’s “value” only describes my orientation to the sword, my preferences. The sword is a thing unto itself, and I select those qualities that matter most to me. Odin tells us to select the right functions to value. Shiny and ornate, for example, mean less than sharp if I intend to fight with that sword.

This half-stanza is very pragmatic. We can get lost in the myriad qualities of something. Better to step back and ask ourselves why we want it, and what purpose it might serve in our lives. That allows us to hone in on the most important aspects. A woman isn’t good or bad for her kiss. She’s a woman, a complex being, with her own rich inner life and purposes. But if I’m after a lover, it may not matter how well she practices law or trains dogs. And the most beautiful may not be the best kisser. Now if I want a wife, on the other hand, those attributes I seek will shift again—as a married man, I can attest that kisses come less frequently and many other things take on paramount importance.

Those who demand instant gratification and get caught up in trivial details reserve a life of pain. Knowing what it is we need, why, and when it’s best to seek it: that’s the stuff of wisdom.