I have trouble with this blog. I have trouble generating content for it. The trouble isn’t a lack of material so much, but in overcoming ego. See, this blog wasn’t intended to be my usual soapbox, I humbly created this to learn. What that means is that, either by just writing my way through the knots, or through feedback from followers – I’m presenting to you what I do NOT know. Not always my favorite subject. I do, however, have much to learn about myself and my people, and I intend to make a stronger effort to do just that. I’m going to start by considering community – a construct I have some frustrations with.
A sense of community is both something I have lacked and longed for in my life. I’ve always had a few close friends, but largely I am a loner. I seek people out when I need their numbers for an activity or to engage in some endeavor that I find interesting – but if I’m honest about it, I long for no one. That’s not to say I don’t care about people, I just don’t feel a particular need to be near them all that often. And that’s not even to say I’m entirely anti-social; I also have a side of me that likes to be part of a team, tribe, clan, brotherhood, whatever you want to call it. I attribute this to a desire to have common cause; it’s the endeavor itself that interests me in this instance, not the participants. Yet I realize, for all my failings in inter-personal relations, I’m not necessarily the weak link. I feel the problem isn’t my inability to participate with or appreciate the people I know, it’s that I know the wrong people. We do not share values or beliefs. We do not live by the same codes. We do not have the same interests. These are not my people. How could I form genuine bonds with them? And I feel like that’s why America is so flawed: we don’t have a true sense of community! We are reaping the sickly harvest of multiculturalism. It’s all acting, posturing, pretending. Appeasing expectations. For someone so inexperienced with it, I do feel like a have a solid grasp of the concept of community. Perhaps a better grasp than those whose livelihoods directly interact with their own (ie: politicians, policemen, teachers). I know what it should be, and maybe that’s exactly why I shun the imitations I see all around me.
So, what then does one do when they find themselves on a cultural island? It’s an informative and occasionally productive effort to seek connections through internet forums with like-minded people, I suppose, but I’ve never felt any kind of personal connection that way. I have no need for penpals. Moving somewhere to find a place where more people might think as I do is a roll of the dice – and I would certainly not be better off separated from my blood and soil. The strangest thing about hearing the call of your ancient ancestors (my “lure of Hyperborea”) is looking around to find that no one else can hear it! I cannot forge a community among people who do not hold similar beliefs as me, I’ve tried and the results are always disastrous. Yet I feel community is critical to the heathen way of life.
I use familiarity to determine the inherent value people have to me. This idea is best illustrated as concentric circles, with the family being the smallest and most important unit. Family at the center, then extended family, then community, then folk, then nation, then culture and finally race as the largest unit. Yet I live in a reality where I wouldn’t waste a swig of beer to put my neighbor out if she were on fire. That’s sick, but I don’t give a shit about that lady! She sucks, her dog shits in my yard, she smells like cat-piss and she sits around watching TV all day. She happens to live next door, but we share nothing. She is not a member of my community. I don’t like it that way, I’ve just come to accept it.
This has become part journal / part rant, which really isn’t productive or worth anyone’s time, but I am interested in hearing some feedback on how others grapple with trying to live a heathen lifestyle in a society where our community is shattered. I don’t have any answers. I simply long for the presence of my people. I long for the familiarity. I long for our ways.