Wortcunning & The Pagan Soul
In pre-Christian Anglo-Saxon belief, the soul was not a singular, indivisible entity but a constellation of interwoven parts—each with its own role, power, and purpose. Much like their Germanic and Norse kin, the Anglo-Saxons envisioned the soul as multifaceted, shaped by divine ancestry, ancestral memory, and deep ties to land, community, and fate. Reconstructing this worldview, though fragmentary, reveals a richly animistic and holistic understanding of personhood—one that can offer insight and inspiration for modern spiritual seekers.
The Core Soul
The term sāwol (Old English for "soul") appears most frequently in Anglo-Saxon texts, particularly those influenced by Christian missionaries. While often equated with the immortal soul in Christian theology, in a pagan context, sāwol likely denoted the vital, animating essence of a person—what makes someone alive. This part of the soul was believed to endure after death, journeying either to the land of the ancestors or, in later Christianized belief, to heaven or hell.
In its pre-Christian sense, the sāwol was closely tied to breath and life-force, similar to the Norse óðr or the Old High German sêula, both of which suggest something that animates and inspires.
The Soul-Skin
One of the more mysterious concepts is the hama—a word that can mean “covering,” “garment,” or “skin.” In poetic texts, it is often used in phrases like “shaking off one’s hama,” suggesting a separation of spirit from body at death or in altered states. Scholars propose that hama may refer to a kind of fetch or astral body, akin to the Norse hamr—a changeable soul-form that could travel in dreams, trance, or spirit-flight.
The hama might have allowed the practitioner to journey spiritually, take on other forms (in shapeshifting tales), or appear to others at a distance—a concept resonant with shamanic traditions across cultures.
Mind, Mood, and Heart
The hyge (mind, thought, intention) and mod (spirit, mood, courage) formed the emotional-intellectual core of a person. Together, they reflect a view of consciousness grounded not only in rationality but in moral and emotional character. Mod especially carried the weight of bravery, will, and resolve—qualities essential in a warrior culture.
In poetic contexts, such as Beowulf and The Wanderer, the hyge and mod are sites of conflict, grief, and reflection. These soul-parts could be wounded by trauma, strengthened by honor, or transformed by time.
Fate and Soul-Weaving
While not often listed as a distinct soul-part, a person's wyrd—their fate or destiny—was a force that shaped and was shaped by the soul. There is reason to believe that aspects of one's soul were linked to wyrd through ancestral threads or the spinning of the Norn-like wyrd-sisters. The soul was not fixed but entangled with larger patterns—communal, cosmic, and ancestral.
In this sense, some Anglo-Saxon spiritual perspectives may have included what we might call a “fate-body” or soul-thread—a part of the soul connected to time, memory, and destiny.
Breath and Spirit
Related to the word for “breath” (æþm or æthem), this soul aspect may correspond to what later theology called the spiritus. It was perhaps the most ephemeral and divine of the soul’s aspects, representing the breath of life or divine inspiration. In healing charms and poetic metaphors, breath is life itself—its departure marks death.
In spiritual practice, breath may have been used ritually, much like in other animist or Indo-European traditions, to direct energy or commune with spirits.
Soul-Shape and Growth
Though rarely cited as formal soul-parts, Old English terms like wæstm (growth, form) and wæsp (a rarely used word possibly linked to essence or fragrance) may imply a conception of the soul as an evolving, growing entity. This is aligned with the idea that one's soul could mature, gain wisdom, or become more potent through right action, suffering, or ritual.
Reweaving the Soul in Modern Practice
For today’s practitioner of Anglo-Saxon-inspired paganism or animism, this many-parted soul offers a powerful map. It suggests that healing, magic, and transformation involve the whole being—body and breath, memory and mind, will and wyrd. Working with these soul-parts might mean:
Breathwork and chanting to align the æþm.
Spirit journeys to engage the hama.
Journaling or ritual lament to process grief in the mod.
Ancestral offerings to nourish the sāwol.
Divination to listen for wyrd and weave wisely.
Rather than a dualistic body-soul split, Anglo-Saxon paganism offers a polyphonic soul—a self woven from breath, memory, intention, and fate. It is a worldview not of fragments, but of intricate interrelation.
There is, of course, a great deal of opportunity here for out wortcunning practice as well- working with specific herbs, formulas, remedies, and herbal charms that address issues with specific parts of self and the nourishing of those parts as well. Each part of the self has a relatively clear connection to what we would now think of as herbal actions, and we can use these links to work on the soul through spiritual herbalism.
In the class below, I’ll walk you through eleven parts of self and explore how we can work with herbs to address disharmonies, strengthen, protect, and nourish these aspects of self with the herbs we all know and love!
Resources:
Pollington, Stephen. Leechcraft: Early English Charms, Plant Lore and Healing.
Meaney, Audrey. Anglo-Saxon Amulets and Curing Stones.
North, Richard. Heathen Gods in Old English Literature.
Ellis Davidson, H. R. Gods and Myths of Northern Europe.
Bintley, Michael D.J. Trees in the Religions of Early Medieval England.
