Winifred Hodge Rose
~ Ond they had not, Odhr they had not,
Neither La nor Laeti nor Litr Godas.
Ond gave Odin, Odhr gave Hoenir,
La gave Lodhurr, and Litr Godas.
(Voluspa vs. 18 in the Elder / Poetic Edda)
~ I gave my clothes, along the way, to two tree-people.
They thought themselves heroes when they were so clothed:
The naked person is ashamed.
(Havamal vs. 49, Prose Edda)
The word ‘hama’ (rhymes with mama) appears in all of the ancient Germanic languages, and a number of other Indo-European languages as well, tracing back to a proto-Indo-European root meaning “a covering.” In the Germanic languages, ‘hama’ is used to indicate an item of clothing: a simple dress or shift, a shirt or cloak, depending on the specific language. In Old Norse, the word Hama takes on an additional, occult meaning: it refers to a ‘shape’ with physical qualities that certain individuals can take on as shapeshifters or during soul-journeys. Hama also means the caul (birth membrane) and the afterbirth in Scandinavian usage, meanings which are important in magic involving the Hama. “Womb” is a related Anglo-Saxon meaning of Hama. In several of the Germanic languages Hama also means the slough or shed skin of a snake. All of these are clearly in the domain of “a covering.” As I shall show later, there is also a different word in Anglo-Saxon, ‘hiw’ (hue), which is used in a similar way as Hama in the domain of soul-lore.
As with many of our other souls, our Hama soul is a complex one, sometimes consisting of more than one Hama-form per person: a human-shaped Hama, and another shape our Hama can take on, such as an animal form or other non-ordinary-human form. Often, in Scandinavian lore and folklore, the Hama seems to be interchangeable with our Hugi soul and with the Fylgja guardian spirit that accompanies each of us. There is also a luck-bringing spirit called the Hamingja, a word related to Hama, which may or may not be the same being as the Fylgja.
The word Fylgja seems actually to be a broad term that is often applied in folklore to any accompanying spirit or externalized soul, such as the Hama, Hugr, Hugham, Hamingja, Dis (female ancestral spirit), Vordhr (warder), Gandr, or spirit animal. (See de Vries Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte p. 224 ff. and Grimm vol. 3 p. 874 ff.) The realization that ‘Fylgja’ can refer to a number of kinds of beings can help to reduce our confusion somewhat when reading through the lore! Often, the context of the word ‘fylgja’ in the text can help us discern more about what kind of being it is.
The concept of Hama is further confused by the possibility that a “hama”, in my understanding, can refer to a covering or a shape taken on by another of our souls, as well as being one of our souls in its own right. Ancient Hindu lore tells of complex systems of ‘soul sheaths,’ much like Hamas, with souls enclosing and shaping other souls or soul-parts within them, sometimes in multiple layers like onions (see Walker’s entry on the soul). I think that something similar may be present in the Germanic concept of the Hama, though in a much less complex and systematic form. In another article about the Ghost and Ahma souls (“Ghost Rider: Athom, Ghost and Wode in Action”) I discuss how the Ghost can be understood as the hama or soul-shape of our formless Ahma soul. Our Hugi soul is also capable of taking on a visible or tangible shape, called a Hugham (hoog-hahm) in Scandinavian folklore. Our personal “world,” our perception and experience of our own lifetime, is in my understanding the hama or cocoon spun by our Aldr soul (see my article “Aldr and Orlay: Weaving a World”). I will try to preserve the distinction by using the capitalized form of Hama for our Hama soul, and the lower-case hama when referring to shapes or coverings that our other souls may take on for themselves, such as our Hugham and Werold.
I will make a further distinction, as well, between our primary, human Hama soul which shapes and supports our physical body, and the secondary or alternate Hama which some people have or develop, which is an animal shape or a human-seeming shape with non-human abilities such as flying. Occasionally it might also take on the shape of a non-human being such as a troll, water-wight or some other wight. An example of a witch faring aloft in her other-hama can be seen in the following verse from the Havamal in the prose Edda:
I know a tenth (spell or rune):
If I see a tun-rider (witch) playing aloft in the air,
I can cause her to fare astray
From her home-hama,
From her home-hugr.
(Vs. 155, my translation)
Here we can see that the witch’s Hugr soul also takes part in this astral faring-forth, in the form of a hug-ham or Hugr-shape. It is not clear from folklore whether people who are ‘shape-strong’ or hamrammr in any of these ways possess two different Hamas, or whether their own Hama can shift its shape and roam abroad under the right circumstances. I incline toward the latter perception: that our own Hama can take on a different shape, and sometimes astrally travel in that shape. I discuss this further in the Hama Study Guide on this website.
I am calling the non-ordinary, potentially out-faring Hama soul-form the Ellor-Hama. “Ellor” is an Anglo-Saxon word meaning “elsewhere,” with a strong connotation of otherworldliness. The Ellorsith is the journey into death, into another world. Ellor was also a prefix used to denote otherworldliness; for example, the monster Grendel in the Beowulf saga was called an “ellorgast,” an alien or otherworldly ghost. In the same sense, I am proposing the term Ellor-Hama to denote a non-ordinary / non-human shape that our Hama may be able to take on, either naturally, or through esoteric practice. In this article I focus on our primary, human Hama, rather than on any manifestations of the Ellor-Hama. We must first understand the great gift the Gods gave us, our human Hama, before proceeding to an understanding of the more arcane forms of Hama.
The Gifts of Lodhurr
When the ancient Trees were first transformed into human beings, in the persons of Ask and Embla, in my understanding the following events happened: Thor released our ancient Earth-given Ferah soul from the Trees, to spring out into human-ness; Odin gave us our Ahma / Ghost soul along with our breath, and Hoenir gave us the power of Wode that can serve as a bridge between humanity and divinity. (See my articles: Born of Trees and Thunder; Ond Ahma, Ghost and Breath; and Ghost Rider.) Another set of gifts was given at this time by Lodhurr; these gifts are named in the Voluspa (vs. 18, Poetic Edda) as ‘La, Laeti, and Litr Godas’ I believe that these gifts comprise our human-shaped Hama Full-Soul.
(I am indebted to the Swedish scholar Viktor Rydberg for important aspects of the material I cover in my following sections about the La, Laeti, and Litr. Teutonic Mythology, Vol 3, section 95, “On the Anthropology of the Mythology.”)
1. The Gift of ‘La’
‘La’ or ‘Lo’ is a mysterious word that occurs only in the verses of the Voluspa quoted above. Modern scholars variously interpret it as ‘blood,’ ‘warmth,’ ‘hair,’ and occasionally even ‘water,’ related to the Laguz rune. (See de Vries’ dictionary.) These seemingly disparate substances have something in common, however: they each carry powerful vital force. Blood is synonymous with life, warmth and strength, as well as carrying distinctive characteristics from one generation to the next. Before the discovery of genes, and often even now, blood was / is considered to carry genetic inheritance. These generational characteristics are seen not only as physical features (she looks just like her grandma), but also as family culture or disposition (they’re all a hot-headed bunch). By mingling blood in a sibling-ceremony, two people are considered to share the power and characteristics of each others’ ‘blood.’ Blood is also connected with female fertility and hence with the power of life.
In Indo-European cultures, and others as well, hair was thought to carry a particular potency within itself. It carries the strength of a warrior, the charisma of a chieftain, the mysterious power of a magic-user, and the allure of a beautiful person. The condition of our hair reflects our health and our self-esteem. Hair is often the first thing we note when we describe a person. In the past, thralls’ hair was cut very short to emphasize their disgrace and powerlessness, even the fact that in some ways, such as legal rights, they were ‘dead.’ Thus, ‘La’ can be understood as life force, carried in blood and in hair, not only in the individual but also passed down in characteristic ways within families. Both of these, blood and hair, are also powerful ingredients in magic that is intended to influence other people, usually by imposing illness or death through use of the victim’s hair or blood in charms.
2. The Gift of ‘Laeti’
‘Laeti’ refers to two different things: one is ‘noise, cries, voice’ the other is ‘disposition, manners, conduct.’ It is related to the Anglo-Saxon word ‘gelaetan’ meaning ‘to conduct oneself, to behave.’ In the disciplines of philosophy and psychology, the quality of volition or will is the necessary precursor to behavior; in other words, one first wills, then acts. Though I think this can sometimes be an oversimplification, it does illustrate the connection between Laeti and Will, supporting my belief that it was Odin’s brother Vili (will) who gave us these gifts. His gift gives us the vehicle through which we can enact our will into the world. Will is also deeply inherent in the life-force, La, expressing itself as the will to live and thrive, the most fundamental of all forms of will.
With the gift of Laeti, Vili / Lodhurr gave us the ability to move and to act, from the most simple to the most complex actions. On the more complex end, we have human behavior and disposition, manners and personal conduct. I must emphasize that the gift of Laeti does not mean that specific, time-and-place dependent manners and social customs were given to us: the Gods know well that we must be able to adapt and evolve behaviorally as well as physically. Rather, Laeti is the inborn capacity to learn and express patterns of behavior that:
(a) identify us each as a unique individual;
(b) identify us as members of a particular social group (family, culture) that has characteristic behavioral customs; and
(c) enable that group to function well and support the well-being of its members, by promoting such things as reduction of strife (through good manners, avoiding insults and rude behavior, etc), cooperative efforts (through coordinated actions with others), and the maintenance of physical and mental health (through cooperative care and social stability).
Along with these behavioral patterns comes the ‘voice, noise, cry’: the power of speech and other vocal expressions. Each of us has a unique voice that others can recognize as ours. Accents, dialects and languages all identify us as members of a particular society and enable us to communicate and interact.
As reported in a recent evolutionary science research article, scientists found 407 genetic variants that showed changes in expression between archaic humans and modern humans. A preponderance of them were concentrated, not on the cognitive parts of the brain like the neocortex, as might be expected, but on the vocal tract and the cerebellum. The cerebellum is the part of the brain that controls voluntary movement: walking, coordination, balance, speech, etc. The findings suggest a rapid evolution of these organs on a path specific to modern humans. (https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2021/04/210426154805.htm) In other words, the main difference between modern and archaic humans looks to be speech and unique ways of walking and other movement. Here is Loðurr at work! Speech and voluntary movement, leading to conduct and behavior: these are his gifts. And note the ‘voluntary’ nature of the movement here, as opposed to automatic action such as heartbeat and breathing. ‘Voluntary’ or ‘willed action’ points us toward Odin’s brother Vili, whose name means ‘will’.
Læti is not unique to human beings; all animal species, even insects, have behavioral patterns, and vocalizations or other sound effects, that are essential to their species’ identities, interactions and survival. But, each species has its own Læti, its own ways of moving, behaving, vocalizing. In our mythology, it is Loðurr who provides these patterns for humans.
3. The Gift of ‘Litr’
Lodhurr’s final gift was ‘Litr Godas (LEE-ter GO-das).’ This is usually translated as ‘good appearance’ or something similar. Viktor Rydberg makes a different assumption: this gift is actually the ‘appearance or form of the Gods.’ This interpretation is entirely consistent with the mythology of Indo-Europeans and most other peoples: the idea that in physical form we are modeled after the Gods and Goddesses. I take this view as well: our appearance was created to be both ‘good’ and ‘godly.’
As Rydberg describes, our Litr is an actual form, made from a very refined or etheric substance which he calls ‘efni’, the Norse term for ‘substance.’ This efni is imprinted with a holy image and serves as a template for our physical form and our behavioral “shape.” By using the expression “behavioral shape,” I am suggesting an analogy between our physical shape and the way it occupies physical space and time, and the ‘shape’ that our behavior creates in the space-time continuum of social interaction and other individual actions. This behavioral shape is just as real as our physical one, and holds a place in space and in time.
Consider, for example, that it is not usually a person’s physical shape that gives them a ‘place’ in history, but rather their actions and behavior, along with subtle aspects of their appearance such as their charisma: the subtle glow of their luck and personal power. Social space is just as real and has just as much impact on us as does physical space, and to act in social space means that we need a suitable body to do it with. This body is our human Hama, comprising our Litr / appearance, our Laeti / behavior and voice, and the life-force of our Hama-soul: our La, which expresses itself especially in our blood and our hair. (As you can see, this social persona still depends on physical qualities and our physical senses, which are much engaged when we interact with each other in person. Our disembodied interactions over the internet, when we are using neither voice nor visual interaction directly, is an interesting phenomenon from the point of view of the Hama, which I discuss in several of the Study Guides, but which needs further exploration.)
The concept of Litr is a very rich one, going far beyond a simple physical description of our appearance. Litr lies behind our physical form, and gives it liveliness, magnetism, attractiveness or repulsiveness. Litr draws out our emotional reactions toward someone’s appearance, and our social responses to this appearance. This can be in response to negative or positive ethnic or cultural stereotypes, emotional reactions to the appearance of celebrities, etc.
As an example, many people respond in an endearingly silly and affectionate way toward babies, even completely unfamiliar babies irrelevant to our lives. Babies have a powerful Litr, in the form of irresistible “cuteness,” that draws the attention and affection of adults. In this way, the baby’s Hama soul ensures that the baby receives the care it needs in order to live and thrive, and ensures that the negative behaviors that are part of being a baby, such as crying and dirty pants, are met with affectionate tolerance rather than hostility. The baby’s Hama soul knows exactly what it is doing in presenting its appealing Litr to the world, even though the baby’s conscious mind is not capable at this point of conceiving and enacting this survival strategy.
Our outer, physical appearance depends on the condition of the inner efni or substance of the Litr. Joy and health shine from the Litr out through the physical body and create a great attractiveness emanating from our whole person. A person with charisma, with subtle power and luck that draws other people to him or her, shows forth that charisma through a magnetically attractive Litr. The Anglo-Saxon cognate to Litr gives us additional understanding: Wlite (wlee-teh) means “brightness, appearance, form, aspect, countenance, beauty, splendor, adornment.”
For each of us, whatever our degree of purely physical attractiveness, the Gods have given a Litr which is meant to shine and glow through our physical body, to project into the world our spiritual health, strength and beauty, and a deep and powerful joy-in-life, all as reflections of the same qualities embodied in our Gods and Goddesses. Think, for example, of the heady power of life and beauty emanating from Freya, ranked with the power of the Sun and Moon, coveted by the giants: this is her Litr shining forth. Shining Heimdal, with his golden teeth and gold-maned horse, his great horn that echoes through the worlds, surrounded by the shimmering light of Bifrost, also shows forth a stunningly powerful Litr. Thor’s literally ‘magnetic’ power, expressed through lightning and thunder, through his iron Hammer and his great voice, his might and main, and his hugely exuberant personality, is another example of a mighty Litr. Each of the Holy Ones can give us such examples of what a Litr can and should be.
The Gift-Giver
These, then, are the gifts of Lodhurr: our Litr, the appearance of our subtle energy body that both shapes and shines through our physical form; our Laeti that shapes our actions, speech, and behavior as physical and social beings; and the La, the life-force of our Hama-soul, that expresses its power through blood, warmth and hair, and through all the appearance and actions of our Litr and Laeti. In my understanding, these gifts comprise our primary Hama Full-Soul. Our Hama is our persona, which gives us the ability to act in, and be a part of, this great world of Midgard. Without Lodhurr’s / Vili’s gift of the Hama, we would be simply disembodied spirits.
(A clarification here: La, Læti and Litr are mentioned in the Völuspá poem of the Poetic Edda, while Hama is not used in this context. Hama is frequently mentioned in Scandinavian folklore. The definition of the Hama as consisting of the La, Læti, and Litr, and the link between Loðurr and the Hama, are my own interpretation of these two different strands of information.)
There is not a full agreement among scholars as to the derivation of Lodhurr’s name, except there does seem to be agreement among many of them that Lodhurr is not Loki, though some believe that this is so. One interpretation is that Lodhurr stems from a root relating to Gothic ‘liudan = to grow,’ ON ‘lodh = fruit, yield,’ and ‘ljodhr = people, community.’ This would make Lodhurr possibly equal to Freyr, or another God with similar qualities. (See discussion under Lodhurr in Simek.)
My own idea is that Lodhurr is a byname of one of Odin’s brothers, most likely Vili, and that the name Lodhurr could stem from an ancient term for skin, hair or covering, just as the word Hama does. In Anglo-Saxon we have the word Lodha = cloak, while in ON we have Lodha = furry cloak, and the famous Ragnar Lodhbrokk, Ragnar Hairy-breeches. Modern Faroese, which retains many words from its Old Norse forbear, has the words Lodhin = hairy, shaggy; Lodhskinn = furs, and Lodhaer = sheep which have not shed their wool. There is also the related modern English ‘leather’ and German Loden = coarse woolen cloth. These meanings comprise hair, skin and covering, which relate directly to the La and the Hama.
The suffix -urr in Loðurr’s name is interpreted by Polomè as an alteration of ‘verr’, meaning ‘man’ (pp. 30-54. My thanks to Dr. Ben Waggoner for this lead.) Thus the name can mean something like ‘shaggy man’. I interpret all this as leading to the meaning of Loðurr as ‘a man wearing a shaggy, furry cloak.’ This fits with the image of Odin and his two brothers, presumably all cloaked as Odin usually is. There is also the quotation from the Havamal, where Odin says that he “gave his clothes to two tree-people” (tre-mönnum, v. 49; note that ‘man / mönnum’ means ‘person / people’ and can refer to either gender). Though there are other interpretations of this verse (see Waggoner note 20), to me it makes sense as a reference to the shaping and clothing of Ask and Embla by Odin and his brothers. My understanding is that Loðurr, the one with the furry cloak, gave us our ‘cloak’ in the form of our Hama with its power of shaping our body, skin, hair, warmth, appearance, and also our behavior and social ‘shape.’
I envision Lodhurr walking with his brothers in a cloak shimmering with La, life-power. I see Thor releasing the Earth-born Ferah souls from the Trees, Odin breathing breath and Ghost into these souls, and Hoenir / Ve striking the fiery spark of Wode that arcs between the souls of the Gods and the souls of mankind, magnetically drawing them into divine communication. Then I see Lodhurr / Vili swirling off his furry cloak, each hair vibrating with life force, and wrapping the two new spirit-beings in it, thereby granting them the Hama soul with its power to create living physical forms out of subtle energy. What overwhelming marvels these are! Our physical body and its powers may sometimes seem so mundane to us, yet it is a wonder that is equal to the other amazing gifts of the Gods.
Modern clairvoyants and energy healers perceive auras or energy waves that surround the human body (and other bodies as well). These are usually seen as patterns of light or felt as warmth or pressure to the touch. I am not able to perceive auras clearly in these ways, though I can sometimes do so indirectly in a spaeworking. But I do sometimes get a sense of very fine, light, short fur lying over my skin or others’ skin, which perhaps are tendrils of auric energy.
“Light” is a very popular metaphor these days for many people, including those with New Age and various religious perspectives. We tend to perceive non-ordinary things as metaphors that are especially meaningful to us, so it is no surprise that today auric energy is perceived as colors and intensities of light. This is, I believe, an accurate, detailed and useful way to perceive and work with auras, and it is not confined to modern perspectives, since we so often see old images of saints or ancient Gods with haloes or rays of light emanating from them. But I think that in the past such energies were perceived in other ways as well, and that “fur or hair” was one of them, as well as “antlers or horns.” These latter images were probably an interpretation of tendrils and rays of energy emanating from the body and the head.
When we have three Gods shaping modern humans out of something else, it would not be surprising if the one who is granting life-energy, and granting the power to create and maintain a physical shape, is represented as someone clothed in energy-rich hair or fur: one who is “Lodhurr” in my understanding of the word.
The Lich-Hama
In all the Germanic languages, there are two words that are used to mean the body, both living and dead: Lic / Lik / Leik, and Lichama / Likama / Leikhamo, and variants thereof. The latter set of words comes from adding ‘Hama’ to ‘Lic’ (pronounced Lich). I believe that originally these were not synonyms for each other, even though they often appear so in the old texts. Languages do not invent two different words to describe identical things; rather, words which originally had different meanings sometimes evolve into synonyms when the concepts they originally described change their meanings. Modern English is full of close synonyms, but most of these come about because of the influx of words from Latin, Norman French, and other languages into the English language.
I think that originally Lich / Lik / Leik described the physical body separate from its Hama soul, whereas Lichama described the compound entity of the Hama and its creation, the Lich, together. This assumption would be strengthened if we see that Lik / Lich words apply to the corpse, while Lichama words apply to the living, Hama-ensouled body. These distinctions do exist in some languages, though they are not fully consistent. Modern Icelandic Lik means a corpse, while Likama means the (living) body. The same is true in Faroese: Lik is the corpse and Likam or Likamur is the living body. Words relating to the living body, such as ‘physical strength,’ use the form ‘likam’ rather than ‘lik’ in their construction. In Old Norse, the Lik was a body either living or dead, while Likamo was the living body. Old Saxon and Anglo-Saxon used the words pretty interchangeably, but the word Lych still survives in relatively modern English terms relating to the dead. Examples are as the lych-gate to the cemetery, through which a corpse is taken to be buried, and in place-names like Lychfield or Lichfield which indicate that there was once a graveyard there. The same meaning shows up in the modern German word Leiche, meaning corpse, though they also use Leichnam, probably derived from Leik-hama, to mean a corpse as well.
While the linguistic evidence is not completely consistent, there is enough to suggest that there was an original distinction between the living, Hama-ensouled Lichama, versus the Lich, the corpse from which the Hama has fled. Thus, although in modern Heathen usage we refer to our living body as our Lich, and there is precedent in the ancient languages for doing so, I suggest that when we want to get technical in our discussions of soul lore, we preserve the distinction between Lich and Lichama. Lich can best be used for a corpse, or else used when discussing the Hama and the Lich of a living person separately, as I do in following discussions about how the Hama forms the Lich in the womb, and how healing the Hama can cause healing of the Lich.
Anglo-Saxon Hiw
In Anglo-Saxon, at the time it was written down by Christians, the word Hama meant a) an item of clothing, b) the womb, and c) the slough or shed skin of a snake. While there are some connections here with Scandinavian magical concepts relating to the Hama (which I shall discuss in a future article), there is another Anglo-Saxon word whose meaning correlates more directly with the Scandinavian Litr and Hama. This word is ‘Hiw’. It is pronounced ‘hue’ and is the ancestor of our modern word ‘hue’ meaning a shade of color.
The first set of meanings for Hiw are: appearance, form, species, kind, hue, color, portrayal. A hiwbeorht (hue-bright) person is radiantly beautiful. Gehiwian means to shape, fashion, transform or transfigure something. Hiw is also the basis for words meaning: to feign, pretend, and dissimulate; and hypocrisy and irony; in other words, putting a different shape on something (‘spin-doctoring’!). (Interestingly, the word Lic or Lich was also the root for the same kinds of words relating to deception, hypocrisy, etc.) These sets of meanings are clearly in the same domain as the godly gift of Litr and our Hama, our shape-soul that defines our form, kind, and species, among other things.
The word Hiw (but not Anglo-Saxon hama) also applies to occult and magical shape-changes, showing a definite parallel between it and the Scandinavian Hama. For example, the Anglo-Saxon cleric Aelfric wrote in one of his many homilies that someone encountered a devil “on mannes hiwe,” in a human hiw or hama (2.2.5-6). In other words, the devil shapeshifted in order to deceive his victim. Aelfric also wrote that the Christian Holy Ghost had two Hiws: the shape of a dove, and that of a pillar of fire (2.3.168-9; 2.3.72-3). These were Hiws that the Holy Ghost made for itself in order to act on Earth. In the form of fire it led the Hebrews out of Egypt, and in the form of the dove it descended on Jesus at the time of his baptism. Without a Hiw, this spirit could not act directly in Midgard, just as we could not act ourselves without our Hama and the Lich that it produces.
The modern Anglo-Saxon scholar J.R.R. Tolkien also used the word ‘hue’ in its modern spelling, but with the ancient meaning, when he had Gandalf describe his fellow wizard Radagast as “a master of shapes and changes of hue” (Fellowship of the Ring, Book 2, Ch. 2, the Council of Elrond).
A phantom or spectre is called a Scinnhiw in Anglo-Saxon: a ‘shining Hiw’ or sheen-hiw. This is likely to be a disembodied Hiw or Hama. The Scinnhiw was handled or dealt with so much by shamans and magicians that very common terms for them were Scinnere (m.) or Scinnestre (f.), and Scinnlac. I shall discuss these further in a future article about magical practices and the Hama soul, but please keep these terms in mind in reference to my section below about the Hama in the womb.
Interestingly, there is a second set of meanings belonging to Hiw that I find to be relevant in practical soul lore applications. A hiwen, hiwisc, or hiwscipe (hiw-ship, as in ‘relation-ship’) refers to a family, household, or other group which lives together with close ties, such as a religious community. Words formed from Hiw refer to household, domestic, family, familiarity, and marriage. Hiw-gedal, the dread blow of fate against Hiw, means divorce. I find this concept of Hiw, as a close relationship between beings, to be very relevant to my understanding of our Hama soul and to soul lore in general.
Firstly, I see such a close ‘hiwscipe’ or domestic relationship between our Hama soul and our living physical body, our Lichama. As I understand, our Hama actually creates our Lich within our mother’s womb, as I will discuss further, below.
Secondly, all our souls which have personalities or qualities to express into Midgard, which is most of them, reflect these things through our Hama or Hiw, our appearance, physical shape and abilities, and voice, through which we act in Midgard. Our Hama is like a lens through which our other souls shine into Midgard. Our other souls express themselves through our actions, behavior and voice, which they could not do without our Lichama. Some of our more abstract and ethereal souls like our Ahma / Spirit need to be tied to Midgard by the strength of the Hama in order for us to be well-balanced and healthy while in Midgard. When there is close partnership or Hiwship between our souls, this is reflected powerfully and beautifully through the shining of our Litr, the actions of Laeti, and the life-force of our La. When there is conflict or lack of relationship among our own souls, this damages our Hiwship, our soul-household, and shows forth in disruptions to our Hama / Hiw, which in turn affects our health, luck, personal power and well-being at all levels. When there is conflict or lack of relationship among our own souls, this damages our Hiwship, our soul-household, and shows forth in disruptions to our Hama / Hiw, which in turn affects our health, luck, personal power and well-being at all levels.
Thirdly, there is the interesting phenomenon of the Hugham, where the Hugi soul takes the shape (Hama / Hiw) of one’s own Lich and walks abroad as a Doppelganger. I shall discuss this more in later articles, but it is a great example of Hiwship between our Hama / Hiw soul and our Hugi.
The Hama in the Womb
In Anglo-Saxon, one meaning of Hama was ‘the womb,’ the covering which protects, nourishes and shapes the growing baby. In Scandinavian usage up until modern times, the word Hamr as well as Fylgja applies to the afterbirth and/or the caul of a baby. Logically, the word Fylgja, which means ‘follower’, should apply to the afterbirth which follows the baby out of the womb, while the word Hamr, which means a covering or skin, should apply to the placenta and caul, but they seem fairly interchangeable according to what scholars write about them. (Perhaps the old midwives, speaking quietly among themselves, showed more verbal accuracy; I like to think so, anyway!)
The caul is the birth membrane which normally opens and slides off the baby while it is going through the birth canal, and becomes mixed with the afterbirth. Occasionally this membrane does not split open, and the baby is born enveloped by part or all of it. Many cultures, including the Germanic ones, believe that this is a sign that the baby is especially lucky and/or has magical powers. In modern German, the caul is called the Gluckshaube, the luck-cap or luck-cowl. The caul is dried and carefully saved for the child. Many customs also surround the afterbirth in Germanic lands, including the common practice of burying it under an existing tree or a new sapling, which becomes the life-tree of the baby, holding strength and luck within it. Some modern Heathen parents take the trouble (it is not always easy) of getting their newborn child’s afterbirth and burying it under a tree. The idea is to treat it respectfully so that any spirits associated with it are friendly to the child, and to create a place of power for the child. This custom occurs in many traditional cultures around the world.
In general usage it seems that Hamr and Fylgja are used fairly interchangeably for the afterbirth and the caul. Both of these physical objects are understood to contain significant power and luck, which in turn are known to be given by the Fylgja or Hamingja spirit. This is especially true for those who have an animal Hama-form as well as the human one. This power and luck is called ‘hamingja’ in Old Norse, a word which is used both for a luck-bringing spirit, and for a type of luck-power itself. All three of these terms: Hamingja, Hamr, and Fylgja, are mixed up together in general usage, all are luck-bringing, and all are involved in the process of gestation and birth. According to some sources, the caul / Hama / Hamingja actually contains the baby’s soul or part of it, and must be kept and protected with that in mind. This further validates the idea that the Hama is actually a soul.
(References for the above paragraphs: de Vries sections 161-162; Grimm vol. 3, p. 874 ff; Erich & Beitl entries on Nachgeburt and Geburt.)
The power inherent in the caul and afterbirth is not a passive or abstract process of life and luck; it is brought about by spiritual beings that are linked with these objects. More specifically, the physical objects are manifestations of the spiritual beings. The Hama and Fylgja are present with the child in the womb and are involved in its safe gestation. Norwegian folklore gives evidence of terrible things that can happen if these entities escape from the womb (of both humans and animals) during gestation or after birth. In an extensive collection of Norwegian spells and charms from the late middle ages onward, Anton Bang includes a number which are used to ‘lay’ such spirits by returning them to the womb or otherwise disposing of them. (These are discussed further in my article “The Kindly Gods Go Wandering”.) These entities are variously called Afterbirths, Barne-mora (‘baby-mare’, parallel to ‘night-mare’ meaning ‘haunter of the night’, not ‘female horse’), and Bølen. All of these terms seem to be synonymous with one another.
The Afterbirth is definitely seen as a spirit-being which can escape from the womb, wander around, and cause a lot of trouble. One of Bang’s spells is specifically titled: “To Bind an Afterbirth (Efterbyrd)” (#300, dated 1800), which does not seek to return the Afterbirth to the womb, but rather to bind it into an earth-fast stone so it can do no more harm, as is done with many other evil spirits in these spells. Even worse, whole troops of Afterbirth-entities can be captured by evil sorcerers and magically sent out to wreak harm. This phenomenon calls to mind the Scinnlac, the Anglo-Saxon sorcerer, whose magic deals with Scinnhiws, ‘shining shapes’.
In Bang’s collection of spells there are a number showing ‘three maidens’ (clearly they are Norns or Goddesses) who bind the Afterbirth-entity of a human or a domestic animal and lay it in its right place in the womb. Some of the spells call on the ability of these beings to spin bands of gold and silver for binding the Barne-mora and returning it to the womb. This image of the golden bands with magical powers is reminiscent of Freya’s Brisingamen and Frigg’s treasured ornaments, warded by her sister Fulla. I believe that among their other sacred powers, these Goddesses hold the power to ward the Hamas of infants and keep them safe in place, thus helping to prevent miscarriage and developmental problems that could occur if the Hama went missing during gestation.
There is a term ‘hamstolinn’ or Hama-stolen, that is used to describe a person addled in their wits (de Vries p. 221). This can happen if the soul called Vordh or Vardh (warder), which can be the Hama or the Hugi, is traveling while the person is asleep and is prevented from returning before the person awakens. Being deprived of these souls will seriously affect a person’s wits and their behavior. But I suspect the term hamstolinn might also be used if a baby’s Hama wanders away from the womb for long enough to hamper the baby’s mental development.
One of the terms used in Bang’s spells for the Afterbirth-entity, the Bølen, is intriguing. One meaning of this word must come from Bøl, meaning evil, ill, harm or destruction, related to English ‘baleful.’ This clearly applies to the harmfulness of this entity when it gets loose. The Faroese dictionary lists another, very different set of meanings of this term which show the role of the Hama in gestation, as I understand it. The word bøla means to make a nest or bed, to warm something, and to brood, as in a hen brooding her eggs or a mother animal curled around her young. This meaning must surely apply to the physical afterbirth, which comprises the placenta, umbilicus and other contents of the womb that protect and nourish the baby while it gestates. I think it also describes the role of the Hama in brooding the baby’s Lich: the body-soul gestates the physical body within itself, condensing and ordering energy into matter. This idea is consistent with the belief, in modern energy-body theory, that energy bodies create and sustain the physical body, rather than the other way around.
The Hama as Healer
It is not only during gestation that the Hama can guide the physical body in its growth. There is a very interesting anecdote in the Icelandic Laxdaela Saga (Ch. 48, 49) that exemplifies the importance of the link between the Hama and the Lich. A man called An the Black was sleeping with his comrades on the night before a deadly attack was planned. An was extremely restless during his sleep so his comrades woke him, whereupon he related his nightmare to them. A horrible old woman with a huge knife had dragged him to the edge of his bed, slit his gut and pulled out his entrails, and stuffed brushwood into their place. She left, carrying a wooden trough with her. An’s comrades thought this hilarious and nicknamed him An Brushwood-belly, but An had the last laugh. The following day most of his comrades were killed, and An himself was taken up for dead, having been disemboweled during the skirmish. During the wake for the dead the following night, An severely startled everyone by sitting up and announcing that he felt much better! He said that he had actually been aware during most of the time since his injury, but had briefly gone into a swoon, and during that time the old woman had returned to him, emptied the brushwood from his belly, and returned his entrails to their proper place. An Brushwood-belly made a full and rapid recovery, an amazing outcome for someone who had been disemboweled.
My understanding of this event is that the old woman, surely An’s Dis (a female ancestral spirit), foresaw that An’s injury was wyrded for the following day. Foresight is a function fully consistent with many tales of the Disir and Fylgjur. She took action to save her kinsman by operating on An’s Hama, removing his Hama’s entrails, and keeping them safe from injury in her wooden trough. When his physical entrails were damaged, apparently beyond repair, she returned the unharmed Hama-entrails to his Hama. An’s Hama, restored to health, was then powerful enough to heal his Lich from the deadly wound. (For a specific method of healing that is based on this anecdote, see my article “Disir, Hama and Hugr as Healing Parners” on this website.)
Another mention of a similar phenomenon, lacking any detail in the account I read, said that a sick person’s ‘soul’ (read Hama) would wash itself during a dream, and the sick person would then be restored to health (Chesnutt p. 155). Modern energy-healing techniques operate on a similar understanding about the role of our energy bodies in illness and healing.
The Hama After Death
Here is my understanding of what happens to the Hama when our Lich dies. Under normal circumstances, the Hama is closely linked to the body, during life and after death. If the body is cremated, then the Hama dissolves and its energy returns to the ambient pool of natural energies. If the body goes through the process of decomposition, then the Hama’s energy gradually decomposes along with the flesh, but some of the Hama-energy will remain as the ‘soul of the bones’. Some necromantic and shamanic practices make use of this soul-energy lingering in the bones of people, and of animals.
However, just as can occur with the Hama in the womb before birth, the Hama after death can occasionally roam abroad and cause harm. In Norse sagas and folklore, one often reads creepy tales of the Draugr, a re-animated corpse that has supernatural strength and endurance, and usually has a savage, ferocious, but otherwise pretty mindless character. Sometimes the Draugr remains in its burial mound, defending its burial treasures from those who seek to steal them. Other times the Draugr will roam the neighborhood where it once dwelt, harassing and frightening its former kin and neighbors, sometimes even killing them. Sometimes, in the tales, a Draugr is created by necromantic practices; other times it comes into being because the person during life had a very strong and malignant Will, focused on greed, malice and revenge. This Will is strong enough to re-attach Hama to Lich after they have separated in death, so as to continue the person’s desired assault on their community. (Hilda Ellis-Davidson’s The Road to Hel has many examples of Draugrs and similar beings.)
It’s my belief that the soul which re-animates the Draugr is the Hama soul. Draugr-corpses usually show signs of morbidity in the tales, and in my view the actions and character of the Draugrs show that their original Hama soul with its human qualities of speech, action, and good appearance, is also undergoing a process of rot and decomposition. As the Draugr-corpse becomes more decomposed, so also its re-attached Hama soul becomes more and more incoherent, less human in any way, until at last the Lich and Hama can no longer function at all and both of them fall apart.
I want to emphasize, for modern readers, that the likelihood of any of us becoming Draugrs is vanishingly small! The normal course of events after death involves either a rapid return of our Hama-energy to the ambient pools of natural energy after cremation, or the quiet and peaceful process of natural decomposition in the grave.
Examples of Hama Words
The Faroese language, a descendant of Old Norse, has retained some interesting words and word-usages that relate to our subject here, many of which I don’t find in other Scandinavian dictionaries. Most of these words refer to occult phenomena and magical practices, but it is useful to show them here in order to round out our understanding of the Hama as a multi-faceted soul. Interesting Faroese words are:
– Hama = “to conjure up something (esp. ghosts) in order to haunt someone.” [Compare to the ‘Afterbirth-entity’ and the Bolen as used by sorcerers.]
– Hamfarin (the word is related to hamfaring) = “an ecstatic feeling of the glory of life.” [Any ecstatic state is clearly soul-related.]
– Hamferth = an absent person’s form; seeing such a sight means that the person seen will die within a year. [Compare with the idea of the Fetch and Fylgja.]
– Hamfridhr = having a handsome appearance. [Litr]
– Hamskifti (Hama-shifting) = (1) sloughing of skin (e.g. a snake); (2) transformation, change. [Relates to shapeshifting.]
– Hamskiftur (Hama-changed) = terror-stricken, paralyzed by terror. [Our Hama is subject to this damage as well as our Ghost-soul, as I discuss in Soul Lore Part 3. But in this case, apparently some kind of substantial change occurs in the Hama itself, a phenomenon worthy of further exploration for soul lore and healing purposes.]
– Hamskotin (Hama-shot) = “as in another world,” one’s mind is elsewhere, amazed, preoccupied.
– Hamur = a sloughed skin, an item of clothing (archaic usage), or a ghost, apparition or spectre. [Again, picture the Bolen and the Scinnhiw.]
Summary
Hama is a covering and a shape. It forms in the womb, with the womb itself providing a covering, and the Hama providing the shape for the infant. Hama is related to Hamingja, which is both a spirit-being, and the power of luck that the spirit brings with it, associated with gestation and the structures of the womb. The Hama’s power of shaping extends to its ability to heal the body and return it to its original shape and proper functions after injury.
Our Lich is our physical body, and our Lich-Hama or Lichama is our body ensouled with our Hama: our living, spirit-powered body. In my understanding, the three gifts given by Loðurr to Ask and Embla are the components of our Hama: La, Læti, and Litr. La is the life-force of Hama, contained especially in the blood and warmth of the body, and in the hair. Læti is our speech and behavior, ability to move and take action, and our personal mannerisms. Litr is our spirit-infused appearance: not only our physical shape and traits, but the essence of all our souls that shines through our face, expressions, movements, and our whole appearance. It is the power of our presence. Together, these qualities give us each a personal identity, and the ability to recognize each other as individuals. These gifts also enable the behaviors and abilities that make human social life possible. A strong Hama soul brings us luck and charisma, and smooths the path of life for us.
Bookhoard
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Originally published in Idunna: A Journal of Northern Tradition, #73, Fall 2007. Updated May 2021.