My academic brain writhes with existential angst once more.
Someone is calling. A Lady, surrounded by birds, more terrible than Rhiannon, more tender than Macha. Who is she? She flutters at the edges of my soul. I fear her anger and her violence. I fear falling into the Morrigan craze that will no doubt surround the new book dedicated to her.
Since my son was born, I can no longer stand violence. At the movies, on the news (which I can’t stomach anymore, even if I still owned a television), even in comics, my gut churns at the sight of blood and broken bodies. It’s one of the reasons I stopped doing martial arts after 12 years–each punch or twist shatters imaginary opponents, who are somehow no longer illusory. Once I was enamored with war and fighting. Now, no longer.
This Lady is powerful. Death clings to her like a cloak, yet she does not reek of it. She is as gentle as she is terrifying. And that is why I do not yet know who she is.
My suspicion is that she is indeed Rhiannon, but not the genteel lady on the horse who leads Pwyll a merry chase. I think, because I have always viewed Macha as far more primal and, frankly, scary, that my poor human meat-brain is overlaying her characteristics with the sanitized medieval version of Rhiannon. The more I think on it, however, the more I find myself believing that perhaps Rhiannon was/is as wild and fierce as the horses and birds that answer her call. She’s something that I’ll have to chew over quite a bit more in the coming months.
I know the other Lady well. I’ve courted her for some time, well over ten years now. Recently, she came to me in a dream, tutoring me in the ways of power, blending herself with me until the magick was birthed. The very next day, I walked into a shop and there she was, looking me right in the eye:
It so happens that I had made a deal with her earlier in the year, that when I was ready to take the next steps on my magickal path, I would find this statue. I was so floored, particularly in view of the previous night’s dream, that I asked the shop owner how he had acquired her. He said a supplier called him up out of the blue and said he was cleaning out a storeroom and wanted to know if this was something he’d be interested in buying. She arrive just a week before I walked into the store.
Synchronicity: the simultaneous occurrence of events that appear significantly related but have no discernible causal connection.
Yeah. This would be one of those.
Here’s to new friends, invisible or not, who have come into my life.