To Witness This Death.
Last week, I went overseas to Denmark to attend an incredible event along with Operatives from several different countries- the experience was one I will never forget.
As I sang galdr under the bright moon with men and women from Norway, Denmark, Brazil, Germany, Serbia, America, Canada, England, Italy, Poland and Wales- I knew that the call Operation Werewolf has put out across the globe is being answered whole-heartedly, and the seeds that have been planted are being watered with blood and dedication.
These individuals are, with their very lives, writing the first pages of a new mythology that carries the fire of the old world, but dwells with eyes wide open in the present. A legend of their own creation, these wolf-cults who worship at the altar of Trial and Ordeal are growing stronger and their voices are carrying to one another and being answered in turn.
After I returned home, I spent a few days in quiet contemplation as I got back into the swing of my routine. One of the things that stayed heavily on my mind was that in order to move forward, we as humans must adhere to a higher ideal and seek to embody that ideal with our entire being. There were a lot of discussions between those of us who attended the event regarding this concept- how can an individual stay true at all times to what he is seeking to be an archetype of? Is a man a hypocrite if he is incapable at times of living up to what he says he believes?
This sort of religious devotion to a concept bigger than ourselves is something all of us had in common. The desire, or rather, the need, to demand excellence of ourselves and those around us- to make ourselves something that others can believe in, and that their belief in us is the Truth.
I have written and spoken quite a bit in the past about this idea of consonance- that everything we do in our lives “makes sense” with the rest of it, each activity and pursuit must ring out in resonance like notes in a scale, or brush-strokes on a larger painting that all contribute to the greatness of the entire piece.
Everyone knows how hard it is to maintain discipline at times, to continue to hammer away at our goals day after day after day, without flagging or faltering. Making our footsteps lead ever in the one direction so that knowing the proper way is ingrained into our nature, and that others might follow those footsteps if they are able. Every road worth walking is one beset with adversity and resistance. Climbing the mountain is more noble a pursuit than walking on the wide road.
It is my belief that one can attain this devotion, this consonant self-creation only by continuous, ritualized action, and that that action must exist within, and be visualized through, a mythopoetic worldview that I feel most modern human beings have lost or become separated from.
Our lives are not mundane by nature. They have become so only through nurture. We have become cut off from living lives of saga-worthy action not by some external force, but through our own stunted concept of the world we live in, or the time we live in. We feel that the age of heroes is over, but the truth of the matter is that the age of heroes is just beginning again. From the grey, a glimmer of newly sparked flame. A growing rejection of static serfdom and acceptance that the world is explored and all the marrow sucked out before we were born. These ideas are poison, and must be purged from the brain and vein.
This world is in flux, a time of chaos and confusion, of conflict and madness. Only those who have lived lives of sheltered silence could possibly believe that theirs is a boring or banal era. I say that this is the era that will give birth to a new breed of man, warring against himself and the illusions of the age, to re-create himself, to transform from man into wolf and lead his brothers in the struggle against weakness and the horrors of monoculture’s manacles.
My brother Jack Donovan and I have spoken at great length in endless conversations about what an individual shows about themselves by how they spend both their time and their money. In comparing notes, we both realized that almost all of our total resources go not into “things” or new possessions, but into what we consider our higher ideals. Training, travel, land, tribal infrastructure. Creating both external and internal environments where what we believe in can thrive and be fed via action that is in direct correlation with who we say we are.
I travel thousands of miles across the United States and back several times a year, and will have been to Europe at least twice by year’s end. I spend half of what I used to pay in rent towards training with weights and martial arts in order to keep my body and mind sharp and ready. I read and write every day. I support as many others whose work I believe in with my dollar and my network as I am able, in order to give back what I can to those who in turn support me. I pour time and resources into the Wolves and Operation Werewolf continuously throughout my day, week, month, year.
And still, we all must look for ways in which to streamline- to bring ourselves more in line with our own belief structure and to create deeper channels into which we can pour our sweat and blood. This is what makes us. This is what sets us apart- we can never be satisfied, and ours is a work that strives for perfection but will never attain it.
The criticism we have received, the shrieking detractions, the condemnations and sarcasm- all must only feed the fire.
The experiences I have been able to have through Operation Werewolf and the individuals who have aligned themselves with it, the connections made, the friendships discovered and the brotherhood forged- drowns out all doubt, all negativity, all uncertainty. This is a living and growing organism that gains strength from strength and is sinking deep roots into soil all over the world.
Everyone who has ever supported Operation Werewolf has placed their faith and resources into this growing idea, and has my deepest gratitude. All those who live by the code “Pure Hearts, Strong Limbs, Actions Matching Words,” are men and women that I hope to one day meet around a fire somewhere and shake hands with, to look into your eyes and know that our footsteps have all led us here. That we were made for this- we have given life to a perfect creation. We have gathered here to bear witness to this death of the old world and our old selves, somberly, slowly, in reverence of the new one we will make.