Thurisaz

Rip, thorn. Ragged, drawn out tear in the fabric. Gaping black out of which monsters (can) come. White teeth, cat teeth, sharks, or the horns of a bull. Wrathful, seriously pissed, lightning hurled down in irritation, flat, hard ramming. Then, silence to lick the wounds and wait until the beep subsides.

The Thurisaz rune initiates the world into the heart of a man, the awesomeness he loves in youth so as to not grow cowardly in age. Memory of disorienting rattling and wounds, a leg stuck to a spike, sudden blood, mesmerizing pain that forgets the future and becomes the now.

The blow of the axe, the small setback in the weaving of a fine fabric. The error around which we seek for re-perfection. In this sense Thurisaz is the father to god or the religious instinct. But it is not the religious instinct, rather the opposite. That which ruptures and ravishes before the maiden ready.

Cruel bindings, love of life's zig-zag motions, a too sharp curve in a roller-coaster, a voice breaking, becoming hoarse and truthful. A nail struck right on the head. A single hailstone that comes through the roof and splits the table, shattering the grails and goblets, then laughter and wine and gratitude for life.

Because of the nature of this rune I can't get away with simply writing this down as if it may be a definition of sorts. I mean only to gain an insight for myself in this meditation. I mean to include different meditations upon each rune. My attempts at two advanced runes have been deleted in fear of the gods.