Stanza 23 of The Hávamál reads:
“The witless man is awake all night,
Thinking of many things;
Care-worn he is when the morning comes,
And his woe is just as it was.”
This stanza offers timeless insight into the nature of worry and sleeplessness. It warns against the unproductive torment of overthinking, something that transcends time, culture, and language.
Insomnia and nighttime rumination are now well documented features of anxiety and depression. The pre-dawn hours, when the world is still and our thoughts are loudest, can feel especially oppressive.
Odin’s advice urges wisdom through healthy and proactive emotional moderation. He implies that constant brooding leads us nowhere. A sleepless night of rumination changes nothing and only compounds one’s suffering. This is the product of avoiding one’s anxieties during waking hours. We cannot hide from these things.
This emotional state also appears in Anglo-Saxon poetry, such as in The Wanderer. The speaker describes his lonely morning sorrows: “Often I must bewail my sorrows alone every morning: none is now alive to whom I dare plainly speak my mind”.
Interestingly, a similar concept is found in the Old English word uhtceare, which roughly translates as “pre-dawn anxiety” or “the sorrow before dawn.” It refers to the experience of lying awake in the early hours, consumed by worry. The word is formed from uhta, meaning the time just before daybreak, and cearu, meaning care, grief, or anxiety.
The fact that both Norse and Anglo-Saxon traditions preserved and named this specific experience speaks to how universally felt it was throughout the Germanic world.
Yet, perhaps there is comfort to be found in this. The ancients wrestled with the same restlessness that plagues us today. If even the Allfather himself thought it important enough to caution against, then perhaps it’s a reminder that we’re not alone in our struggles. And that, in itself, may offer some solace.








