A woman in a blue-black cloak climbs onto a raised platform, a staff in her gloved hand. The farmstead’s women form a ring around her, singing a low chant that rises and falls like wind through a winter field. She does not speak for a long time. Then she opens her eyes and tells a farmer that his crops will fail unless he moves the cattle by the new moon. This is not a scene from a novel. It is the account of Þorbjörg lítilvölga in Eiríks saga rauða (the Saga of Erik the Red), written around 1265 but describing events in tenth-century Greenland. Seidr (seiðr) is the Norse magical tradition that this woman practiced: a form of sorcery focused on prophecy, fate-shaping, and trance work, distinct from the incantation magic of galdr and the symbolic carving of rune magic.
What Seidr Actually Was
Seidr is a type of Norse magic that manipulates ørlög (the web of fate) through altered states of consciousness. Unlike galdr, which relies on spoken words and runic formulas, seidr depends on the practitioner entering a trance — often through rhythmic song, drumming, or the presence of a staff — to see or change future events. The word itself is related to Old English sīde and Old High German sīta, both meaning “sorcery” or “spell.” In the sagas, seidr is almost always performed by a völva (seeress) or a seiðmaðr (male practitioner), though the latter risked social stigma because the practice was considered ergi, unmanly.
The central tool was the stafr (staff), often iron-tipped, which the völva used to strike the ground or point at people during the ritual. She sat on a hjallr (a high seat or platform) and was accompanied by a chorus of women who sang varðlokkur (spirit-songs) to summon the spirits that would carry her vision.
Where Seidr Came From: Myth and History
The earliest literary references to seidr appear in the Poetic Edda, compiled in the thirteenth century from older oral traditions. In Völuspá (“The Seeress’s Prophecy”), Odin summons a dead völva from her grave to learn the fate of the gods. The poem Baldrs draumar (“Baldr’s Dreams”) repeats the pattern: Odin rides to Hel to wake another seeress. These poems establish seidr as a practice of the dead and the divine, not a folk remedy but a power that shapes cosmic events.
Snorri Sturluson’s Ynglinga saga (c. 1230) traces seidr’s origin to the Vanir, the fertility gods. Freya, the Vanir goddess of love and war, taught seidr to the Æsir. Odin himself learned it, and Snorri writes that “Odin knew and practiced seidr”, but that the skill was so associated with effeminacy that it was “accompanied by such ergi that men could not practice it without shame.” This tension runs through the sagas: Odin, the All-Father, uses seidr to see the future, but male practitioners are mocked or outlawed. In Lokasenna (the “Flyting of Loki”), Loki taunts Odin for having practiced seidr on the island of Samsø, calling it “unmanly.”
Archaeologically, we have no direct evidence of seidr rituals, but graves of women buried with iron staffs, such as the Birka grave Bj 834 in Sweden (tenth century), are widely interpreted as völva burials. The staffs are often accompanied by narcotic seeds (henbane, cannabis) and ritual objects, suggesting the trance state was chemically assisted.
What Seidr Meant: Fate, Gender, and Power
The central symbol of seidr is the distaff, the tool used for spinning wool. In Norse cosmology, fate is woven by the Norns, three giant women who spin the threads of every life at the base of Yggdrasil. The völva, by entering a trance, could see those threads and sometimes pull them in a new direction. This is why seidr is described as “unweaving” or “binding” fate: the practitioner did not simply predict the future but could alter it.
The staff itself carried phallic and feminine symbolism simultaneously. It was a tool of penetration (striking the ground, pointing at a person) and of gathering (drawing spirits into the body). This ambiguity fed the ergi accusation: a man who wielded a staff in a trance was seen as taking a woman’s role, both sexually and socially. The law codes of early Iceland, such as Grágás (c. 1117), explicitly outlawed seidr, punishing it with outlawry. The practice was not merely magic; it was a threat to social order.
How Seidr Was Practiced
The fullest description of a seidr ritual comes from Eiríks saga rauða (the Saga of Erik the Red). Þorbjörg lítilvölga arrives at a farm during a famine. The women prepare a high seat, cover it with a cushion stuffed with chicken feathers, and bring her a meal of goat’s milk and the hearts of all animals on the farm. She asks for women who know the varðlokkur, the spirit-songs. A young woman named Guðríðr admits she learned them from her foster-mother in Iceland but says she cannot sing them because she is Christian. Þorbjörg insists, Guðríðr sings, and the spirits arrive. Þorbjörg then predicts the end of the famine and Guðríðr’s future marriage and journey to Rome.
The ritual had several fixed elements:
- The platform (hjallr): raised above the ground, often in a doorway or at the edge of a field.
- The staff (stafr): iron-tipped, sometimes with a knob or ring at the top.
- The songs (varðlokkur): sung by a chorus of women, often in a circle, to summon spirits (vættir) or the dead.
- The trance: the völva’s body became still while her soul traveled. She might fall asleep, shake, or speak in a different voice.
- The prophecy (spá): delivered after the trance, often in verse.
Seidr was not performed casually. It required preparation, a specific time (often at night or during the winter solstice), and a community willing to host it. The völva was paid in food, silver, or cloth, never in land or weapons.
How Seidr Compares to Galdr and Rune Magic
That history explains why seidr felt dangerous to Norse society. What follows is how it differed from the other two major magical traditions. For a deeper look at the Norse magical system as a whole, see our rune magic hub.
Galdr: The Magic of the Spoken Word
Galdr (plural galdrar) is incantation magic. The word comes from the verb gala, “to crow” or “to sing,” and is related to Old English gealdor (spell, charm). Unlike seidr, galdr is performed standing, often alone, and relies on the power of the voice, chanting rune-names, speaking formulas, or singing curses. The Hávamál (“Sayings of the High One,” stanza 144–155) lists eighteen galdrar that Odin knows, each for a specific purpose: healing wounds, calming fire, turning aside arrows, making a corpse speak.
Galdr is masculine in the sagas. Men who practice it are praised as wise or cunning, not shamed. The rune-master carves runes and chants over them to activate their power. In Sigrdrífumál, the valkyrie Sigrdrífa teaches Sigurd rune-lore for victory, healing, and love, all through galdr formulas.
The key difference: galdr is verbal and active; seidr is trance-based and receptive. A galdr practitioner commands spirits; a seidr practitioner travels to them.
Rune Magic: The Magic of Carved Symbols
Rune magic (rúnar) is the practice of carving, painting, or speaking runic symbols to achieve a specific effect. The runes themselves were not letters in the modern sense, they were tácn (signs) that contained inherent power. The Hávamál tells how Odin hung on Yggdrasil for nine nights to “take up the runes” and learn their secrets. Rune magic could be used for divination (casting rune-staves), protection (carving þurs runes on a door), or harm (carving nauð runes on a tree to cause suffering). For an in-depth look at these symbols, visit our Elder Futhark guide.
Rune magic overlaps with galdr, many galdrar involve rune-names, but it is distinct in its materiality. The rune must be carved into wood, bone, or stone, often colored with blood or ochre. The act of cutting the symbol is itself a spell.
Seidr, by contrast, uses no writing. The völva’s knowledge is oral and embodied. She does not carve fate; she sees it.
Spá: Prophecy Without Trance
A fourth tradition, spá (prophecy), is sometimes confused with seidr. Spá is simply foretelling, a völva might predict the future without entering a trance, using omens, dreams, or the flight of birds. In Völuspá, the seeress speaks from memory, not from a trance state. Seidr is spá’s more intense, ritualized cousin: it requires the journey, not just the vision.
What People Get Wrong About Seidr
A common error is to call seidr “Norse shamanism.” The comparison is tempting, both use trance, spirit-journeys, and a drum or staff, but the term “shamanism” comes from Siberian Tungusic traditions and carries specific cultural baggage. Norse sources never describe the völva as traveling to an upper or lower world; she stays on the platform and the spirits come to her. The varðlokkur songs summon vættir (land-spirits or ancestors), not animal guides. We prefer to call seidr a “trance-prophetic tradition” rather than shamanism, because the Norse evidence does not support the full shamanic model.
Another misconception: that seidr was exclusively female. While most practitioners were women, the sagas record male seidmenn, Odin foremost, but also the legendary hero Starkaðr, who was forced to perform seidr as a curse. The ergi stigma meant that men who practiced it were marginalized, but they existed.
Finally, seidr is not “Norse witchcraft” in the modern Wiccan sense. It has no connection to the Horned God, the Wheel of the Year, or the elements. It is a specific, historically bounded practice that died out with the Christianization of Scandinavia in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. Attempts to reconstruct it today are modern inventions, not unbroken traditions. For a glossary of related terms and symbols, see our seidr glossary entry.
FAQ
Was seidr considered evil in Norse society?
Not inherently, it was respected when performed by a völva for the community, but feared when used for personal gain. The law codes outlawed it because it could harm others, not because it was demonic.
Did Vikings use runes for magic, or only for writing?
Both. Runes were used for everyday writing (inscriptions on wood, bone, stone) and for magical purposes. The same symbol could be a letter or a spell depending on context.
Can men practice seidr today without stigma?
In modern Heathenry, yes. The ergi taboo is a historical fact, not a rule for contemporary practice. Many modern seidr practitioners are men, and the focus is on the trance work, not gender roles.
Closing
Seidr, galdr, and rune magic are three distinct streams that sometimes merged in the hands of a single practitioner. Understanding their differences helps us read the sagas with clearer eyes, and respect the Norse world’s own categories, rather than imposing modern ones. For a deeper look at the runes themselves, see our guide to the Elder Futhark. To explore the symbols and tools of Norse magic, visit the glossary of Norse magical terms. And for a broader overview of the tradition, our Norse magic hub collects all the articles in this series.