Saturday, August 21, 2010

Home Again. Same But Different

















Dear Reader,

6 weeks, 50+ hours of flying on 8 different aircraft, 4 ferry boat rides, 2 bus rides, 3 train trips, and 45 public restrooms later, it was finally time to land in Auckland after a long and rewarding quest-- the solo heroine's journey I'd been dreaming of. My two most potent destinations turned out as expected, to be the ancient sites of the Goddess in Sligo County Ireland, and on the Isle of Iona in Scotland- also known as a place where Druids lived, where Christianity was birthed in Scotland, and where the veil between the worlds is thin....

According to one interpretation, the last stage of the hero's journey a la Joseph Campbell is: "TO RETURN WITH THE ELIXIR." This is where "the hero returns home or continues the journey, bearing some element of the treasure that has the power to transform the world as the hero has been transformed".

Transformation is a big word. A big-self-help-human-potential-Hollywood's version-of-the-quest word. What follows is a small story about transformation and the subtle power it brings. In this case the setting was in a cave known in Gaelic as Oweynagat or Cave of the Cats, located at Rath Croghan / Cruachan in the great archaeological complex in north Co. Roscommon, Ireland. This small cave has huge mythic importance as the ancient capital of the goddess-queen MEDB, often pronounced and spelt as Meave. Inside are two ogham slabs that when translated mean ‘the pillar of Fraech son of Madb’.

An 18th century text tells us that the cave is the “Hell-mouth of Ireland”. But my interest in the place is to do with another ancient association with the Goddess Morrigan, The Great Queen" one of the archetypal Mother-goddesses of the Irish Celtoi. Goddess of war, death, prophecy, she escorts souls to the underworld. It is said that at Samhain, she comes out of the cave with an enormous monster cat.

Ok. Now that you have a bit of context, imagine yourself about to enter the interior of this 120 ft deep natural limestone fissure, the entrance to which is covered by a Hawthorn tree. As with many of the sacred sites I visited, no sign posts of any kind mark the site from the road, nor is the entrance to the cave sign posted. I arrived with my friend and guide Ursula on a summer's evening in late June. We put on coveralls, checked that our hand held flashlights were working, and crawled carefully with a few small votive candles and offerings into the mouth of the cave. I felt a little nervous like a school girl on a dare. Once inside, the temperature noticeably colder, I shown my torch down into what looked like an abyss with no visible end in sight. The walls were cold wet and slippery from ceiling to floor. We moved a few feet slowly inside the pitch blackness.
I really hadn't expected to feel afraid, despite the chills now crawling up my spine. I was also physically exhausted. Jet lag was lingering like never before. I hadn't slept since arriving in Los Angeles a week earlier. My throat had been growing more irritated and sore by the day. On this day it hurt to swallow or speak.

"Ursula, I'm scared" I whispered, looking into the warm understanding eyes of my guide. "So am I" she replied. After a moment's hesitation I decided to go first. The way was treacherous as my sneakers kept slipping on the surface of the rocks and boulders. About 30 feet into the tunnel, I peered with the small hand held torch into what lay ahead of us, realizing that I had serous doubts about continuing. The way ahead made a sharp descent, and even if we managed to reach the chamber at the end, how would we climb back out with nothing to hold on to. We were two women alone in a remote place where few people go, if one of us fell who would know? Cell phones don't penetrate this far underground. Help could take hours to reach us.

"Something is telling me this is as far as I should go". Ursula looked at me and nodded. I knew this was her third attempt at going all the way to the cave's end. Our breath now visible in the dampness, she said, "I think I might try to go further". I told her I would wait for her, and would shine my torch as far ahead as possible, although our lights were feeble in the largeness of the blackness, surrounding us as if it might swallow us whole. It wasn't that I felt there was evil here, far from it. I simply knew we weren't alone, that eyes were upon us as they had been in the Dragon Wood.

Ursula began to try and lower herself down the slick ledge in front of us. I had the overwhelming urge to tell her that my sense was that if it were merely her curiosity driving her on, she might want to reconsider. She stopped and breathed heavily. Just then both batteries fell from her camera. "I think you're right" she said.

It was then I knew what I wanted to do next. I asked her if we could extinguish our flash lights and meditate in the total dark. Silent for a moment, she asked softly "Would you mind if I hum"? We both began to hum, and as we did the darkness eased it's grip, with our voices echoing off the walls we felt safer.

Then, as if it were a song we knew, we both stopped at the same moment. In the silence that followed, I heard a buzz, and then a soft whir...something brushed my hair as soft as a whisper. More shivers down my spine came with a greeting spoken non-verbally...."My daughter, what you are sensing is power in a form you're unfamiliar with. The important question is; what does power mean to you?

The answer that came was " it means the the power to harm or the power to heal" was my first thought. "Are you so sure they're different"? Came the unhesitating reply.

At that moment I let go of every childhood nightmare, fears of every description began to flood from the pores of my skin. All the things I'd feared would find me, haunt me, even death lost it's sting and began to drain away within this womb like passage to the depths of where the unconscious and the otherworld are joined.

We lit our small votive candles, laid them on a ledge and set our offerings beside them. Mine was a three pronged piece of corral found on Maui the day that my Sister and I had spread my Mother's ashes. Now it would rest here in the cave where I had been released.

We emerged changed. I no longer had any trace of the sore throat which had plagued me for days. I was filled energy and elation. Ursula was too. Later, in the images like the one above, orbs would be clearly visible in large images of the photos. One such orb, bright blue is clearly visible-- perhaps whatever healed my throat was matching the colour of that particular chakra.

So this, is what I now understand transformation to mean; a moment of trust and surrender to something powerful that raises us up to a higher vibrational level and opens the heart.

I have a new response when fear finds me- I remember the Morrigan's fingertips in my hair, and then I can smile.







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