by Armin

Armin wrote from Iceland, posting to alt.religion.shamanism in the early 2000s with a voice of gentle, self-deprecating sincerity. Where most of the group's practitioners worked in forests and suburban woodlands, Armin worked in a landscape of volcanoes, glacial rivers, and saga-haunted ruins. He was not a trained shaman — he said so freely — but he listened, and what he heard was worth recording.

This post from February 2006 came after weeks of reading other practitioners' accounts of conversations with trees. Inspired, and noting that Iceland has few trees of consequence, he went instead to a glacial river on the western flank of the volcano Hecla. What he found there surprised him: not an answer, but a recognition — that he had been in love with this river for twelve years without knowing it.

The piece is a small masterwork of nature mysticism. Armin's river is dual — motherly and crystalline above the bridge, white with foam and "furious with crystalline passion" below — a description that matches the liminal nature of sacred water in Nordic tradition, where rivers were female presences with distinct personalities. He shares this with his patient wife. He does not share that he is in love with the river.

I have been reading all your impressing accounts of profound conversations with trees — so hugely different from the bookish attitude I am used to. Sometimes I felt like a page in an old book, and not a very interesting one either. My inferiority complex wriggled a little, but not much. But there is time for action. One must learn from you guys, you who have attained higher levels than I can ever hope to reach. So yesterday I decided to do something. I am not familiar with trees — in my country trees are not prominent — so I decided to find me a sweet little rivulet and converse with it. It was a powerful day, bright winter-sun, massive clouds and sometimes rain.

On the first mountain I drove through heavy rain and I asked the rain — I didn't discern any particular answer but it felt good. I told my wife about this new undertaking of mine. She was not the least amazed. What was your question, she said. I am not sure what to ask, I said. Never mind, keep your mind open and perhaps you will receive an answer, even if there was no particular question. She is a clever woman.

On the eastern side of the mountain we had bright sun and almost no snow at all. We drove into the highlands, all the way to famous volcano Mt. Hecla. On the western side of Hecla there is a river. I found a trail I have never seen before and there was a small bridge. I walked onto the bridge and my wife waited in the jeep.

On the northern side of the bridge the river was like a loving mother: she (in Iceland rivers are female) played an instrument for me, it was soft and wonderful music. She was crystal clear and I could easily see the gray stones on the bottom. On the southern side — down-side — she was very different, white with foam, furious and screaming with crystalline passion and the sun was reflected in her waves. So typically female — motherly, soft and loving on one side, furious and wild with passion on the other.

On the way home I recalled that twelve years ago I was travelling alone in these tracts and came to this river but in another place — same river but different place. For some reason which I don't understand at all this is a memory of exquisite happiness to me. In a way I am in love with this river. She is my lover. I didn't tell my patient wife this, though. It was still raining on the mountain, but now the rain was strangely illuminated, yellowish bright.

This is how we immature creatures try to learn from you guys and take small steps towards unification with the Universe. Seems to me from what I have been reading here that some of you have endured great pain; I don't feel ready for that. You may build your mountains, I will build my sweet little hillocks.

Colophon

Written by Armin, an Icelandic practitioner, to the newsgroup alt.religion.shamanism on 20 February 2006. Original Message-ID: <[email protected]>.

The Mt. Hecla river Armin visited is likely the Rangá system on Hecla's western flank, one of the great glacial-fed rivers of the southern highlands. In Icelandic folklore and sagas, rivers and waterfalls were understood to be inhabited by female spirits (vættur), and Hecla itself was regarded as a gate to the underworld — a mountain Armin visited to ask the rain a question, and found instead a twelve-year love he had not known he carried.

Preserved from the Usenet archive for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.

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