Pomegranates

Last weekend I bought a necklace at the Portland Saturday market to commemorate my new relationship with Hades and Persephone. I was looking for something Red (of course) and resembling pomegranate seeds. This was the first one I came across, then I proceeded to look at every booth in the market, but ultimately came back to this one.

Just a little symbol to myself that it's all Red.

Have the Reddest Day Ever!

In Grace,

Kell

A New Myth, Part 2

When I started my quest toward all things divinely fem several years ago, one of the first books I read was Jean Shinoda Bolen's "Goddesses In Every Woman." In those pages I fell in love with Hestia, Athena, Artemis, and Aphrodite - but I had a conscious roadblock against Persephone and Demeter. I couldn't tell you why, except that maybe I knew my path, at the time, meant to take me me away from the Good Daughter/Doting Mother archetypes. I was in search of my Self, not the me who only knew herself in relation to others.

The book that truly broke open the universe was Sue Monk Kidd's "Dance of the Dissident Daughter."  A few days ago I pulled off my bookshelf another book, "Traveling With Pomegranates," a memoir written by Sue and her daughter Anne Kidd Taylor from journal entries made between the release of Dance and the bestselling novel The Secret Life of Bees.

So, as I mentioned in the previous post, I had already begun a new relationship with Hades when I picked up "Traveling With Pomegranates" and was immersed headfirst into the Demeter/Persephone story. What I found was that Persephone is not just the archetype of the good daughter, and Demeter is not just the archetype of the doting mother. They are both 1/3 of the classic story of a woman's life. I also didn't realize that the 3rd member of that trinity, Hecate, the ancient wise crone, also has a reoccurring role. Of course, front center and all the way through is the dark and deathly Hades.

What is so interesting reading the myth this time around is my knew understanding of Him. In the first place, the storytellers and historians translated the title of this story a little inaccurately for our modern vernacular. "The Rape of Persephone" has appeared throughout art history as a violently sexual act, while the original greek word raptis, would be more appropriately translated as "abducted."

Persephone was the daughter of Demeter (& Zeus). Demeter was the earth harvest goddess, represented by wheat stalks and orchard produce. She made the ground fertile and blessed humans with fruit-full-ness. Her teenage daughter Persephone (who up until this time had no story-line; nothing about her stood out as spectacular; she wasn't the goddess of anything)  was walking through a field one day when she was distracted by a beautiful red flower. As she stooped down to pick it up, the ground unexpectedly opened up beneath her and she plunged into a deep crevice. We lose sight of Persephone at this point in the story and it becomes Demeter's tale. Demeter searched and searched for her daughter for 9 days. On the 10th day the ancient wise crone Hecate came to her and told her that her daughter had been abducted by Hades and was now residing in the underworld.  Demeter's rage and grief rocked the whole world. She wept for months on end, pleaded with the other gods to help release her daughter and finally resorted to blackmail. She refused to let the earth produce crops. It became barren winter for ever - she was never going to stop weeping. There was famine and drought and plagues on the earth.

Finally, in order save humankind, Zeus interfered and told Hades he must return Persephone to her mother. But, on the eve of her return, Hades offered Persephone the nourishment of several pomegranate seeds in order to sustain her on her journey. (Pomegranates have long been the symbol of female fertility.) Somehow, (the stories are a little murky on the how) the seeds ensured that Persephone would return to him for a third of every year.

So, Persephone and Demeter were reunited. Winter ended and new life returned to the earth. Persephone became the goddess of something. She came to represent spring, rebirth, fertility, pink blossoms and newly sown fields, baby cows and spring rains. Here's an interesting piece of the story - wise old Hecate was the only one who showed up the witness the reunion. And she followed Persephone, as a faithful companion, continuously, forever.

In all the discussions of this book that I have read, Hades is always the bad guy who steals away Persephone's wholeness, Persephone is always the archetype of the faithful daughter who lives her life according to the belief system she was raised with, and Demeter is the dedicated mother archetype who gives herself unselfishly to her children. I think there is a lot to be learned from these archetypes, negatives and positives that can help us see certain storylines playing out in our lives. We can question whether we want to continue being the faithful daughter, or we can call on the energy of Demeter to help us love our children unconditionally.

But, Sue Monk Kidd brought to my attention, in one of those "well, duh" moments the view that Persephone, Demeter and Hecate represent the three faces of the ancient mother goddess - the maiden, the mother, and the crone - which of course, ultimately represent the stages that every woman goes through in her own life.

I also began to see this myth as representing not just that life journey, but the myriad of dark times, rebirth, new dreams and wisdom gained that we experience over and over during the course of our lives. I am Persephone, I am Demeter, and I am Hecate - all at once, all the time. As I age, I stay me. But that me grows and learns and creates and becomes wise because of the experience gained during the millions of death and rebirth cycles I go through during the course of one physical lifetime. These dark times can be huge like losing a loved one, getting laid off from a job, having a terrible sickness, going through a divorce - or it can be small things like going on a wonderful vacation and then having it be over, losing an argument, burning a meal, stubbing your toe, yelling at your kids, or resenting your mother-in-law.

By Frederick Leighton

All of these dark times, big or small, always result in newness, biggerness, wholer wholeness, if we recognize them for what they are and choose to learn from them. Now, I know transitions suck.  Change hurts. Bad shit happens and we don't know why. But, it is during those times that Hades carries us. And he is not some bearded father figure or a horned devil or the one who makes the bad shit happen. He loved her. He made the warm sacred space in the womb of the earth for her to hide in while the world as she knew it changed. The bad was gonna happen anyway, it was a necessary tool to her becoming the goddess of something. He simply held her, made love to her, and made sure she made it through to Spring. And when all was ready, he returned her to her newer, brighter, bolder, wiser, creative self and gave her the gift of potent fertility. "You'll be back," he said, "You'll create something new and beautiful and then something will have to die for the next something new to come forth. You'll always come back. Death and change and darkness will always be waiting for you. But, its an act of love, of nourishment, regeneration."

If the darkness had not swallowed her, she would have stayed forever the same. Never growing, never creating, never knowing her own power. And in the story of our lives, there would never be a harvest, because there would never have been a spring. And there would never have been a spring, if there had not been a winter.

I love my new image of Persephone - I must admit I'm not seeing her so much as an archetype to call upon or a face of goddess to pray to. I see her as me. Becoming the goddess of something. The bringer of spring. The one who returned willingly to her lover Hades every autumn. The female ruler of the underworld who also helped those in darkness see the beauty and light in it. The one who ate the pomegranate seeds as a symbol of new life and the inevitable return to death.

By Jenna Dulceta

I love Demeter too, but in a whole different way. I think this post is long enough for now and I'll talk about her in a part 3. For now, here's some pictures I found in a google search. BTW, I realize by the quantity of cool art out there in google-land that my epiphany about Persephone and Hades is not exactly new. So, while I'm still calling these entries A New Myth, please understand that what I really mean is New - To Me.

By J. Morreau

I love too that the gist of the whole myth and this whole woo-woo reaction I'm having to it could be summed up by saying "It's all good, It's all Red, It's all spiritual." Same lesson, new myth.

Have the Reddest Day ever,

In Grace,

Kell

By Callisto Boucher

Seattle Art Museum

This weekend I got to revisit the Seattle Art Museum and "finish" looking at some pieces that jumped out at me on my last visit. Since I felt like this was a very pleasure-full, Deva thing to do I thought I'd share some of my favorites here.

On my first trip to SAM, I walked into the Ancient Greek gallery all by myself, stood in front of this 2nd Century B.C. statue of Aphrodite and cried. She is my "hold nothing back, give nothing away" goddess - known as the divine whore, but perhaps the most virginal of them all.

I should have written down who painted this family portrait of Zeus (disguised as a swan) his girlfriend Leda and their 3 children, one of whom became Helen of Troy. I think the thing I love most about this picture is the look of complete detachment on Leda's face. She could care less about hooking up with a divine bird; she is completely unimpressed at this point. One hand caresses a child's head, the other casually touches her own temple, as if to say "It's under control, I've got what I came here for, why are you still here ya big white honker?"

This African ceremonial "head dress" of sorts was worn over the shoulders. So big and heavy, it would have had to be worn by a male dancer, but obviously celebrated the voluptuous assets of the divine fem.

Another headless Greek sculpture, this time a nameless architectural piece known as a Caryatid - much like the giant female figures that hold up the Parthenon. Women have been bearing the weight of the world for centuries, and not just because of suppression and oppression and depression - but because, well, we're strong enough.

Does the theme/image/concept of this 2,000+ year old African statuette of a mother & child look familiar?

When I first saw this painting of Aphrodite and Adonis, I was confused because I always thought she pursued him but he spurned her in favor of his hunting trips. Turns out that story was not a Greek original, but a version Shakespeare wrote based on another painting where he is walking away from her. Truth is, Aphrodite did try to stop Adonis from going on that last fateful hunting expedition because, being god, she knew the boar would get the best of him. But, she also knew she could not take away his free will, could not bend him to her own wants or change him to meet her own needs. So, she lovingly let him go. And thought she mourned him, it didn't stop her from continuing in her role as the great sexual adventuress.

Similar to the Greek Caryatid, this Egyptian architectural Isis was probably used as a support beam.

I was delighted on my first trip to Seattle, when we visited Tillicum Village on Blake Island and saw the First Nations' portrayal of their creation story and gods' adventures in song and dance, to discover Raven was such an important part of their history. I loved Raven first because he is Brigid's bird in British/Celtic myths - carrying the souls of the dead to the starting over place. I love to see him in all his forms. He is both powerful and strong, yet also a hilarious, rambunctious trickster.

I'm so grateful for the chance to return to Seattle Art Museum and gain a little closure on my last hurried trip through its galleries.  I am a little bummed at the timing though  - one week later and we would have seen a new exhibit, Behind the Scenes: The Real Story of the Quileute Wolves. The Twilight fan in me would love to see that one.


I posted pictures from our 36 hours in Seattle and our subsequent Portland adventures on my Facebook page. Hope you enjoy!


Having the Reddest week ever!

In Grace,

Kell

A New Myth, Part 1

It has become apparent to me that, out of necessity, the pendulum of my spirituality had truly swung clear to the feminine side. I have rejected any and all concepts of a male god for so long and completely rejected god-with-a-penis in my struggle to find how I fit into the 5,000 year old culture of patriarchy and female suppression. A while back though I heard the song "Stars" by the Weepies, which sounds at first listen like a lullaby, but which I have come to imagine is a sexy love song sung by Mother Earth to Father Sky every night. It occurred to me that if he is good enough for her, I can probably find something to love about him as well. Since then I have been searching for an image of a male God that doesn't dredge up feelings of servitude, judgement, and oppression.

You may be surprised at who showed up to take on that role. I know I was. I certainly never thought I'd end up in a blazing love affair with the Lord of the Dead. But I began to understand Hades as the most misjudged, underestimated and misaligned character in all of the Greek myths. When you realize that the whole devil image, the dark and evil epitome of all that terrifies us, the horned demon laughing as the souls of the damned burn forever in hell was invented because what scares our human egos the most is the uncertainty and unknown of death, then you can see Hades for who and what he is - The kind, loving torchbearer who precedes, carries and follows us through death.  And not just that final death when we "outcarnate" permanently, but all of the little deaths we experience that are so hard, those times when something has to die so that something else can live.

You know that poem "Footprints" where the man realizes at the end of his dream that it was during the hardest, roughest most trying times of his life that he was being carried by his Saviour?  To me, that is Hades. He is not the devil that drags us screaming and writhing into those horrible transition times. He is the one that catches us when the ground opens up beneath us and we are plunged into darkness.

I had begun this new understanding of Hades when I opened a book that delves into a myth I had not given much credit to before, in which Hades appears front and center. It was this new love for the god of death, transition and rebirth that provided clarity about this new (to me) story -  and which brought me closer to new aspects of goddess I had not seen clearly before.

In another post I'll go into what I found out about Demeter and Persephone and their relationship with Hades. Google it if you want,  for some background. Its a great myth, although I have to admit I wasn't that into it when I first read it. One of those "when the student is ready, the teacher will come" moments.

I'm currently enjoying a "staycation" with Deva Sara visiting from Wisconsin. I'll put up some pics of our delicious whirlwind weekend in Seattle and the gorgeous Pittock Mansion we visited in Portland today. Tomorrow we're off to Multnomah Falls and I'm tired so better catch some Deva Z's.

Have the Reddest Day Ever,

In Grace,

Kell

Red Athena

I've been rolling around in the delightful rediscovery of a particular Greek myth that has me contemplating all the big things like life, death, love, patriarchy and how certain cycles repeat themselves in our lives on so many levels and at different times and yet can be represented and described in one spiritual story. One thing that is clearer to me than ever is that god myths were not told to explain the Divine to us, they were written to describe our Selves to us and how we react to the Divine in us within the context of our own lives.

I've actually got a whole other blog post started that delves into some of the cool (to me) stuff that's popping into and out of my head, but its gonna be so big I think its gonna have to be posted in sections, otherwise nobody would sit down and read the whole thing.

In the meantime, I had a kick ass thought occur to me in the shower this morning and thought I'd share. Here's the background: for a while I've been contemplating finding an image of a male god that I can live with so I started re-studying some of the Greek myths and I found out something interesting in the connection to the Greek deities and their Roman counterparts. Most people (for the most part correctly) assume that the Greek gods were wholesale assimilated into the Roman culture and that the stories about them differed very little between the two cultures. For example, Aphrodite and Venus are pretty much one and the same entity with the same relationships, actions and tales. The same goes for Artemis and Diana, Athena and Minerva, Zeus and Jupiter. While you'll find differences in the details, the Greek and Roman worship of these characters was pretty much the same.

There was one major exception to this rule and that was the Greek god Aries and his Roman counterpart Mars.  The Romans loved Mars. They worshiped him as a great Savior, a great leader in peace and war times. The reason is that he was butt-kicking warrior and a brilliant military strategist - but he strategized for peace. He loved the arts and music and partying and making babies. (He had more demi-god children than Jupiter/Zeus!) The Romans built temples and shrines for him all over the place, there were initiate mystery programs and priesthoods dedicated solely to his service. 

Not so with Aries. There were no known temples, and very few literary or historical references to him. He was the "he who must not be named" of his time. They were terrified of him. Like Mars he was a brutal warrior, but not a general. He killed for the sake of killing, started wars for the sake of warring and was completely consumed in bloodlust. His only sexual/romantic relationship outside of the rape and pillage scene was with Aphrodite. (There's one I'm gonna have to delve into at another time.)

At the time I was reading about this it occurred to me that huge sections of the American populace seem to worship less at the feet of the Christian Savior and more at the beck and call of Aries. Not just as a nation either, so many people, both on the news and in my own life, are so friggin' angry about the most trivial things. We've become a nation of angry people, war mongering amongst each other over our right to be right.

So, back to the shower this morning......my astrological sign is Aries and I was considering how I would much rather channel some strategic creative Mars energy into my life rather than the blood thirsty animal instincts of Aries. And suddenly, kind of casually, I remembered that the only one in any of the stories who could ever stop Aries from opening a can of divine whoop ass on humanity was Athena. OK - divine pause in the forward motion of time here. The only one who could stop the war mongering Aries was Athena. 

Blink blink. Remember when the Dalai Lama said the only hope the world has, the only ones capable of saving humanity was Western Women?  And doesn't that thought both thrill you with hope and terrify you as to what your responsibility for participation in such forward motion might mean?

So, Athena......the perfect balance of male and female energy inside a female body. Unstoppable on the battle field, and like a mama tiger, especially brutal if you hurt someone she loved. Brilliant military strategist and the best wool spinner and weaver in the universe. She was the patron of all the homemaking crafts, gave the people the olive tree so they could sustain their families, and helped anyone who was interested in higher education. She was the goddess of wisdom AND the goddess of war. She knew how to sit, learn and create, and how to take explosive action. She was totally whole and complete unto herself. She was creative pussy power united with strong and unbending heart power.


Athena, give us Grace. Broaden and sharpen our minds. Unleash our creativity and ingenuity. Make our weaving fingers nimble and our armor strong. Sharpen our wits and our swords. Lighten our anger with patience and wisdom. Teach us to never walk away or close our mouths when our world is at stake. Show each of us our own individual balance of male and female so that we will never doubt our own divinity.

How am I gonna change the world? The same way anyone ever has - one thought at a time, one step at a time, one action at a time and starting in the only thing I truly have any control over - my own thoughts, steps and actions. Channeling as much Red Athena power as possible......................

Have the Reddest Day Ever -

In Grace,

Kell

Lughnasadh Song

"I am the sovereign splendor of creation,
I am the fountain in the courts of bliss,
I am the bright surrender of the willpower,
I am the watchful guardian and the kiss.
I am the many-colored landscape,
I am the transmigration of the geese,
I am the burnished glory of the breastplate,
I am the harbor where all strivings cease."

- also from Celtic Devotions by Caitlin Matthews