Slow Havamal: 83

[kylec]

The 83rd verse says to drink ale by the fire, skate on the ice, buy a thin horse and a rusty sword. Feed the horse, but let your dog fend for itself.

This verse is initially baffling enough to me that I wonder if some of the figurative meaning that would have been obvious to a Norseman either doesn’t translate easily or is lost altogether on me. The first four lines, at least, seem to have something in common with verse 82: that of doing the right thing at the right time and place. By the fire is where you’ll enjoy your ale. Ice requires skates, and they won’t work on a summer lake.

A thin horse and a rusty sword sound like opportunities to get something that has lost some of its apparent value, and so can be had at a good price. Neither of these purchases is irreparable. The horse, neglected by a poor owner, can be brought along with a good feeding, as it suggests in the next line. The sword, assuming it isn’t rusted straight through, can be polished, oiled, and kept dry.

Many of the opportunities we get in life are not indefinite offers. Nor do they land on our doorstep in mint condition, ready to enrich us the moment we receive them. It’s incumbent upon us to look at the world around us, and notice that it’s a fine time for certain things, and a lousy one for others. I might wish I could harvest in Winter, but if I missed my chance in Fall, it isn’t coming back until I exhaust the larder and plant a new crop in Spring, tend it through Summer, and hop on the next train when it arrives.

Even when they come readily, not all things look like what we imagined. Our meals, blades, free mutts, fixer-upper homes, careers, lovers, and children may come up short of what we envisioned. So what? This is what’s before us, and it’s this that we have to work with. There may be better opportunities down the road if we hold out, but equally, there may not. We are a crucial ingredient in our successes. Our timing and willingness to devote care to the situations that arise are as important to the directions our lives take as the things that are handed to us. A rusty sword can become a more-than-serviceable weapon with the attention of a steady hand. In a crowded, competitive world, often the best things not already spoken for are those that someone else neglected or overlooked. But we have the option to pay attention, to see what resides within a thing, and how we might bring it out.

This is not a lottery ticket. These gifts come with a responsibility for the owner. That horse needs to be fed, and not pushed too hard while he gains his strength. What of the dog that has to fend for itself? Maybe we’re asked to notice what requires our dutiful attention and what can do just fine without it. Our energy is finite. For everything I tend to, another is forgotten. The dog can be taken as a symbol of those parts of our lives that we have more or less under control (though it can also be taken as a dog!). The Norse farmer probably didn’t pay for the dog, like he did the horse. He’s put care into it, but in a pinch, a dog can find its own rabbit, and probably becomes a better expression of the creature for doing so.

Choose the right time. Notice the silver beneath the tarnish. Devote attention where it’s needed most. There is much for us in this world if we can throw off the notion of riches as ready-made and hand-delivered.