A New Fire is Lit

Charley was “suited” up and ready to head out the door. He wasn’t really wearing a suit, of course, but rather a slightly tattered pair of jeans and jean jacket over a long sleeve t-shirt with an eagle emblazoned on its front. His favorite soft knitted hat was on his head to ward off the chill of a wet looking day and his backpack was in hand, full of current to-do items.

“Where is that note with the Terranova’s phone number?” he asked.

Ursula who was sipping tea looked at him thoughtfully.

“What?” he said, trying to keep irritation out of his voice. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m glad you’re off happily and I’m glad you’re following up with the Terranovas. It’s important work and, as they say, somebody has to do it…..”

“But…?“ he said.

“I feel like we’ve been passing ships, you and I. Hello, goodbye. Off on very separate trajectories.”

“But I thought you wanted it like that. I thought you wanted alone and uncommitted wandery time between here and store.”

“I do. I have. But where is our union? The convergence of our work and play? We sleep next to each other, of course. But…. It’s like we’re together only in a crowd when we’re fomenting this and that.”

“I haven’t been bothering you with most of the details unless it is something only you know or something you bring up….”

“I know. And I thank you for that. It’s not about the details. I don’t feel left out at all. It’s about where our togetherness is… or isn’t….”

“Ahh…. That…. We have been a little out of touch with each other…. But I really can’t stop right now to process, Ursula. Can we set a time? I could probably even do it this evening.”

“A date? Can we have a date? It’s been so long. I’ll fix something special to eat….”

“It’s a date,” he smiled. “Sounds lovely.”

“The Terranova’s number is on that pink sticky note below the spice rack.”

 

It wasn’t more sex per se she wanted, Ursula mused. They actually had that groove down pretty well, given the normal ebbs and flows of four children within a thirty-five year relationship (or was it closer to forty?). There had been a lovely renewal after the twins left a few years ago, when they had reveled in a new sense of privacy and freedom from parental distractions of the everyday sort. But even that intimacy had settled into a pattern – too much of a groove?

Sex had definitely felt rather rote for a while. They turned to each other in the night to give and receive comfort from the day’s tribulations and often one thing led to another even without the raging hormones of their youthful years. Ursula gave thanks that their sexual dance, in the sense of body parts rubbing nicely with each other, was fine.

It was a different sort of connection she was missing. A particular deeper sort of intimacy she wasn’t sure she could even define. They’d been cruising along having made a pretty serene transition to different job categories. Their sense of abundance was serving them well on the material front. But their constant “doing-ness” and an attendant seeming shortage of Time had become an issue for her. Probably for Charley too though he’d been pretty wrapped up in making the shift into the admin work he was proving so good at. Inevitably that rushed-ness and busy-ness had affected their personal focus. Always ready to process on behalf of any of their groups, it was easy to let slide the time for the important subtleties of their marriage partnership.

 

Ursula took a while explaining all this to Charley when evening came. “…. so I keep feeling there is a way that we can connect into each other that we’ve not been letting ourselves experience. I don’t know what it looks or feels like but I know there is magic to be made sexually. I also know that our common purpose has been so focused outward into the children and into our community that we really haven’t explored what it means to be partnered in any significantly new way that is in line with the other explorations we’ve been doing with the groups. Psychically, for instance. Energetically. Not for a long time anyway.”

Charley was silent after his wife’s soliloquy. They were sitting cross- legged facing each other on cushions in front of the woodstove, its doors open to share the flickering warmth and glow of an alder and apple wood fire. Oyster stew and garlic bread simmered in their bellies. The champagne bottle was half empty.

He wasn’t as adept at processing with words as Ursula, but with her earnest brown eyes on him, he knew he couldn’t be silent long and he needed to remember his deep listening skills. “I think you’re saying that we could be going deeper together but that we’re letting our outer work distract us. I gather you still want us to be doing that outside work….”

“Right – the community involvement is part of our whole. I actually think we need to be moving more tribally rather than less, i.e. more intimately as a group somehow….”  Her voice trailed off.

“But you’re saying it needs to start with ourselves. We need to be grounded within the twosome unit we’re most connected with….”

“You and I. You do get it.” She sighed with relief. It always helped so to have someone – especially a beloved someone – confirm that they were hearing what you were struggling to put into words.

“I love you, Ursula. And I love it that you’re prodding us about this…”

“But what do we do now?”

“Yeah. I certainly don’t know where to start. Just going to bed feels kind of awkward….”

“Even with champagne to smooth the way,” she giggled. “How ‘bout I give you a massage? I didn’t even give you one on your birthday recently.”

“I won’t turn you down. But I could give you one…”

“I offered first. The room is cozy. Do you want to smoke a little first? That would let me get into it more deeply.”

“It does seem like this is a time to let the Green Herb help us get out of our conscious minds. We might even get a little ceremonial about it.”

“Good idea.”

Ursula fetched the antler and bone pipe they’d used for years and Charley added more wood to the fire. She looked on the candle shelf for a rose shaped one she had been given for her birthday last summer. “Time to light this sucker up. It will bring Aphrodite in.” He found a silky blue green cloth to cover the pillows. “This will bring our watery friends in.”

“Can you reach the coconut oil? I’ll get the rose quartz heart.”

They sat cross-legged in front of each other sharing a few puffs of locally grown from the pipe. As he began taking off his clothes, Ursula leapt up again to get glasses of spring water for each of them. “May the Mountain source us too. I didn’t tell you that I had an orgasm the other day standing out at the Stone Table and looking up at the Mountain.”

“What?!”

When she told him the story, he laughed and laughed. “I feel rather one-upped by that one.”

She warmed some coconut oil in her hands. “Lie down on your belly now. I’ll start with your feet….“

Ursula took Charley’s feet in her hands, lifting them a little as she did so. Feeling their weight and heft. Noticing how the toes bent this way and that. Tracing the delicacy of his ankles. After a few minutes she put the left one down and began to smooth the right one, feeling the skin soft in some places, rough in others. Then increasing the pressure she moved her fingers along the bones and sinews feeling for knots and tangles, not necessarily physical ones but the energetic blocks that so often land in the feet.

“Ouch!” said Charley “That hurt. I know you’re getting to some deep stuff that probably needs to be cleared. But I thought we were doing erotic tonight.”

“Oh right,” said Ursula. Taking a deep breath, she allowed her energy to center differently. No longer reaching for “broken” places where Bear often led her, but rather sensing the lover in her husband, even in his prosaic feet. He who wanted to be touched and honored. Her mate who wanted to connect with her Soul…. “It’s not Mother Bear we want tonight, we want….” She hesitated unsure….

“We called in Aphrodite, didn’t we?” offered her husband.”Who is also, of course, Venus.”

“Ahh.” The classic image came into her mind of the tall maiden standing in the scallop shell, a few auburn tresses blowing loose and a long coil of hair self-consciously hiding her pubis. Angelic attendants hovered to cover her more fully. Rather demure and virginal for this seasoned granny. Ursula wanted naked knowing nymphs or sirens. She wanted her hair blazoning  around her, showing off her full glory, with pearls and abalone to adorn her and rich spicy scents.… Maybe a mysterious, glittering mask… Or, thinking of a painting she’d seen recently, perhaps even snakey tresses and a gleeful, lusty expression as she loomed over her lover, her covering a shell shaped g-strap with a pink curved opening….

As she allowed these images of the Greek love goddess to flow and become embodied in her, she could feel the energy in her hands shift. Siren energy beckoning. Alluring. Igniting. Soon very different hands caressed and pulled gently on each of Charley’s toes in turn and then slid along the bottom of the foot. A shiver went from there in two directions – up his leg and up her arms. A different sort of connection was being established. She reached for the opposite foot to give balance. Soon with her fingernails pricking like a playful kitten, she followed the energy up the back of both legs – swirling as if she were drawing. Tickling a little behind his knees, inching up his inner thighs….. Just about to the top….. She could feel him catch his breath in anticipation, but teasing, she started back down again. Charley moaned a little and peered over his shoulder. “Keep going up?”

“Be patient, my Adonis. I want to gentle and relax these beautiful thighs first.” She reached around them, feeling their golden hairiness, honoring their strength. Many a time she had watched from the house down to the waves as these legs crouched with impressive composure and fortitude on his surfboard. Tonight, she admired the muscles and sinews she found, stroking the length, reaching around to cover the breadth. Hinting at going higher. Teasing still. Promising. Her energy now sinuous, now catlike, now….

Charley moaned again as her hands slid up over his butt. Again muscular, yet with a lovely padding of fat that felt just right. Gluteus maximus. Her hands kneaded gently for a bit and then slid sideways up his butt crack causing a gasp from both of them before slipping under to his hip bones. Nice and boney. And…..

“Time for a little oil?” she asked in a sultry voice, Aphrodite making herself known again like a tropical breeze through her body.

“Yessss,“ he breathed, enjoying the changes in Ursula’s energy from Bear to…. Siren….. to Jaguar. Wonderful…. In her power.

“Not quite yet,” she teased as she straddled his hips, moving her hands up and down his back. First along the spine and then outward to trace the ribs and eventually up over his shoulders. Just a bit of kneading there. And then a brushing with fluttering hands. A lot of stuff cluttered there that could be released. She swept away phantom sheets of paper that she had no desire to identify. Instead with her mental “eyes” closed, she moved the energy down his arms to his hands, where she also gathered up and swept off all kinds of computer and telephone keys, then door keys and….. “Be Gone!” she whispered. “Out! Into the woodbox. Not here tonight. He can pick you up in the morning.” She giggled at the image. “Hey are you awake?” she asked the still form beneath her hands and under her legs.

“Emmmm.” He answered lazily.

“None of that,” she scolded, “Here!” She slapped him playfully but a little stingily down along his back. Let’s get that blood going.”

“Oil now?” he requested plaintively.

“Oh, ok,” she agreed with pretended reluctance, moving to pour from the plastic bottle by her knee and inhaling the lovely scent of vanilla and cinnamon that wafted towards her from her now slippery hands. She warmed the oil and then rubbing it on her breasts, let herself move again on his body.

“OOOOh,” he moaned, “That’s lovely.” Now she was slipping and sliding her whole torso over his back and down onto his thighs. When she sat up again for more oil she let her hands roam from the small of his back down around and underneath. Charley moaned as she touched his penis, feeling it both straightening and hardening where it had been nestled under his left hip. He moved in rhythm as her hands went gently along the creases between his legs and groin. Then back to his penis with her left hand.

“Time to roll over, Mister.” It was a command to which he happily complied. His penis, delighted to be freed from underneath him, rose tall and perky. “Looking good,” chuckled Ursula appreciatively. “Quite good!” she added as she bent to kiss the tip. The penis bobbed gratefully and its circumcised maleness grinned up at her as his hips made a circular motion.

Yet still drawn by the whole of him, her hands left the tempting organ and moved up the front of his body, along the sides. Ribs, pecs, nipples, heart chakra. She bent again and licked the place between his nipples, imagining the chakra wheel glowing green and sparkly, whirling with love.

Charley’s eyes were closed but he opened one with a squint, his lips pooching into an airy kiss. Taking the hint, she bent and met his mouth. Their lips and tongues did a delicate dance that took all their attention for the next little while….

Around the house that sheltered them, the trees swayed in the rising wind. The Mountain heaved luxuriously and moaned, male and female energies intertwined. A pair of raccoons chittered and two neighboring cats found each other in the bushes.

Neither of these humans felt any of this consciously. Yet, for a few breaths they paused, filling with memories of lovemaking that was also baby making, shifting to thoughts that touched for a minute on grandchild, friends. Tribe. Their years of accomplishments on so many levels. Luckily none of this was spoken and soon with a mutual sigh of sweetness, they each pushed such distractions aside. This was their time. Their space. No need for other energies. They again had eyes and senses only for each other.

 

“Not even me?” asked Pan grinning wickedly from the dark meadow just beyond the window. “Next time you might call me…”

They didn’t even hear him.

 “Not me either, I guess,” said the Green Man.

“They’ll find us soon,” said fiery Shiva and Shakti, full into their respective male and female energies. “We’re moving in. A new earth is forming…. Newly honed bodies are needed.”

 

As they looked deep into each others’ eyes, Ursula felt spirit shivers that she passed through to Charley, their bodies now interlocked length wise, their legs and arms intertwining in ever changing and impossible looking forms. Their breath came fast now. Their mouths instinctively open. Tongues flicking, their hips soon rocked gently as they paused and breathed appreciatively. Soon the rhythm changed and became more urgent. His penis sought its nook. Her clit throbbed for his touch. His fingers answered her whispered plea as she crouched over him. Both moaning now, she moved to find a position where the fitting together could happen. “Aaahhh!” She let him nudge at her cleft and then deliciously enter. “mmmMMM.” She eased down again with him inside her. Rocking. Rocking.

“You ROCK! Charley-Mon,” she said aloud, her words turning to laughter that he soon matched. But then even that was toooooo much. Sparks flew, energy spun through their bodies, igniting torso and fingertips, toes and crown. Hair follicles and fingernails. All abuzz. All ablaze. Rocking. Rocking. Shouting. Crackling.

“Jesus!” She gasped wondering as she did so at the apparent blasphemy of it. But then, “I’m Magdalene! Rising. Rising. Isissssssss.” All the love priestesses through time.

Charley matched her, riding the bursting of his own orgasm, yet tuned into her strong, passionate feminine version that reached somehow deep into ages past. The tsunamis of their two energies rose between them and crested. They had called in this connection and it came full on now. Their spirit selves entwined for a few glorious moments, as intermingled and potent as their bodies already were.

Thea’s Ritual Aftermath

Thea had remained silent throughout the ritual but once home it all replayed in her head. She was close both geographically and emotionally to her mother – her father too, for that matter. And she had made a conscious choice not to have children, so there wasn’t a lot of punch in that…. but Oh! The power of the ritual. The feelings expressed were so intimate and potent. For the first time she really got what it meant to be part of a circle. She could see that sometime another topic would touch her more personally. When she was ready…. She felt badly about not being able to identify with their particular pain but truth be told there was another element that was going on for her.

The women’s ribald laughter had been strangely arousing. It was so freeing to connect about these intimate matters. She had always been shy about such things – it was the way she was brought up. Maybe these women would help her loosen up. It didn’t seem like they had troubles around that score, though what did she really know about them? She was committed to a solo life right now…. taking care of herself. But she could always use a little help of the non-physical sort….

She let herself slip again into that trance-like state she had been in by the end. What would the dark lover look like to her? That was a sexy vision Ursula had presented…. The Ancient Greeks were always depicted as white, distancing her from their stories despite her Hellenic heritage, but the Egyptians had some chocolate colored queens. Nefertiti for one, plus the Nubians. Maybe Hatshepsut. The myths from the two cultures were different though they overlapped sometimes…. except when they were opposite. The Greek’s Demeter was an earthy goddess as was Gaia, the earth herself, but the genders were reversed for the Egyptians. Thea began to see herself as the sky Goddess Nut – another version of Demeter as the source of food but this one arched over earth. Her breasts leaked milk to feed the land and its people. Blue with stars all over her body. On the land was Geb. Solid, manly. Of the earth. And under that? The Lord Osiris. God of the Dead.

Was Osiris the same as Hades who seduced Persephone? Is she Isis or the daughter that Isis never had? The stories seem to say that Isis continued to be a wife to Osiris in her dreams after his second death. Some even imply that Isis is the same as Mary. The Christians considered Mary a virgin impregnated by a god though they skipped over the making love part for sure. Perhaps she was also a priestess, a Magdalene who may also have made love to a god, or at least a god’s son….

Thea thought of a disturbing book she’d read. The Search for Omm Seti was the biography of a 20th century English woman who went to live at the Egyptian temple of Abydos because she had a powerful connection to a dead pharaoh from another lifetime. Seti made love to her in her sleep. And it hadn’t felt like a dream…. “Could it have been true?” wondered Thea. “Could I ever have such a lover?”

She lay quietly in her bed, naked under a light comforter the color of her body. She loved the softness of the flannel against her skin. She thought of a dark face leaning over her…. A dead lover from the Underworld. A lover from the stars….

A warm glow began to gently flicker deep in her vulva. Slick juices flowed as she focused there, a golden warmth spreading up into her belly. She could almost see the spiral – inside and out – uncoiling like a snake. The tip of its tail somewhere deep inside. Just under the hara – the second chakra – the dan tien as the Chinese called it, the body’s center of gravity. The snake’s head curled upwards and out her belly button, that relic of her umbilical that would never connect to daughter or son. The snake writhed and a song played on…. distant music. Pan pipes…. “Just to mix a few more metaphors,” Thea grinned.

She reached her hand down and slid her finger gently between lips slick with her feminine juices. “I want to taste them,” she thought and brought her hand up to her mouth. “Salty? Musky?” She didn’t really know the words to describe that taste though she’d read pages and pages in books trying to characterize it….

How would it feel to have him suddenly appear, this lover from the underworld. She let out a sigh as his strong body entwined with hers. Powerful. Confident. Gentle and wise. His pelvis moving against hers, he slid his hands around her hips and she cupped his beautiful buttocks, feeling the muscles and the heave of them as he entered her. Ahhhhhh. OOOOHHH. Her breath came quickly now in gasps, as did his. Her belly writhed against his. Her blood thundered and she imagined his doing the same. Her back arched up. Her legs splayed wide. Her fingers thrust deeply inside. Her sacrum thrummed as did her womb inside it, matching the thrusting rhythm of the earth as the male god. Geb. Green Man. Hearts beating. Ragged panting.

Thea let out a wild yell that seemed to echo through time and space. She felt the Mountain deep under and inside of her. Felt Wild Woman egging her on, calling forth her own subterranean wildness in a deliciously gushing stream that soaked her fingers and the sheet beneath her…. Sacred. It was so sacred. Sacred play.

Names and Goddesses

Maenads

“How did you get your name, Ursula?” asked Thea. “I hear it’s a taken name.”

“I decided to change it some years ago when Bear really came into my life. ‘Ursa’ means ‘bear’ in Latin.”

“Oh sure, like the constellations Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.”

“Yup, right up there, said Ursula pointing northward to the sky over the Mountain. “They are also called the Big and Little Dipper.”

Women of various ages were sitting around an impromptu campfire on the beach on one of those gorgeous late September evenings when the sky sparkled with stars just coming out. Their fronts were warmed by the fire – sometimes too warm – but most had their backs covered by cloaks or hoodies.

“I was taking a shamanic journeying class from one of my teachers – you’ve heard of my mentor Stella who has a practice in Nekelew. Had? She’s mysteriously gone a lot and none of us have seen her for a while. One night we were practicing journeying out in the woods lying in the moss when Bear came to me in the Underworld wearing an apron like Mama Bear in Goldilocks. She came from behind and wrapped me in a gentle hug, as if she knew I was intimidated by the idea of her as a spirit ally.”

“A bear hug obviously,” laughed Thea. “I can see why you would be afraid of bears in real life, but why were you afraid to have her as an ally?”

“It was more like I was in awe of her and didn’t feel I was powerful enough – important enough – to rate such an illustrious ally.”

“Poo!”

“It seems silly now, but remember this was early on and I was still trying to understand all this weird stuff. I was so drawn to it – just like you were saying the other day – but I had no idea how to measure up to my full power. I still don’t know the extent of that but I’ve come a long way.”

“Had you gotten other signs or messages from Bear?” asked one of the younger women.

“Yes, many, but the strongest was the year I had a strong sense that we needed to base a Winter Solstice ceremony on Bear to honor Owen’s brother Gordon who had shot a huge bear while hunting elk out in Eastern Oregon. He hadn’t meant to but he was saving his buddy who had gotten between the bear and its recent kill. He was really upset about having shot it so I wanted to help clean up some of that energy. I kept wavering about it cause one person in the group was a vegetarian and couldn’t cope with the idea of hunting, much less eating the meat. One day after talking with her I reached behind the back seat of my car for shopping bags and found a metal necklace pendant on the floor that I’d never seen before – a stylized bear claw. Huge shivers went up and down my spine. ‘Okay, Bear, okay,’ I said, ‘we’ll do the ceremony. I promise.’ The ritual was beautiful. We told the story of the kill and then honored all the growers of our food. Even the vegans found a way to be with it. Afterwards all I wanted to eat at the potluck was the bear meat that Gordy brought. I just couldn’t get enough of it.”

“Where had the necklace come from?”

“It took me a while to figure that out.”

“It was mine,” laughed Molly. “My sister had given it to me when I was visiting back East. Ursula had picked me up from the airport and it must have dropped out of my pack. It had been there for a couple of weeks. I gave it to Ursula after that, of course.”

“By then it was like I had outgrown my given name. It was time for a change.” They were all silent for a bit.

“How about your name, Thea?” asked Caliente. “Doesn’t it mean Goddess?”

“I’ve always been named Thea. I thank my mom almost daily now that I’ve discovered the Goddess. It seems like it was preordained somehow.”

“But it’s even cooler than that,” said Molly. “Didn’t tell me that one of your special totems is Owl?”

“Yeesss, they’ve shown up a lot in my paintings. I figured they had something to do with the deep diving I’ve been doing into my shadow side. What else about Owl?”

“You’re right about the going inside part. Owls can turn their heads almost all the way round and that reminds us that the wise can see all sides of an issue and can also glimpse the backside-of-the-moon kinds of things. But Owl is also associated with the Greek Goddess Athena and sits on her shoulder to symbolize her wisdom.”

Thea still looked blank.

“I get it. Thea sounds like Athena,” blurted Cindy excitedly.

“Oh. My. Gosh,” breathed Thea. “Another synchronicity. Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Goddess, for this blessing.”

“I’ve always wondered, Molly. How did you connect with the Goddess?” asked Rhea. “I’ve never heard that story.”

“It was pretty neat. I was reading an early copy of Ms. Magazine. You young uns’ have no idea how precious that magazine was to us back then,” she said as an aside. “Alice Walker wrote about how the Mother Goddess came over from Africa with the slaves and became disguised as the fat black Mammy archetype with a headscarf and apron who took care of all the white ‘chillens.’ She’s Aunt Jemima and stereotyped caretakers and kitchen servants in so many movies like Gone With the Wind. It just went clunk into my very being and I knew it was a change point in my life. Shortly after that a wooden figure of her as a recipe holder came into ReBound and I snatched it up. It would seem racist in somebody’s kitchen but I treasure it on my altar.”

Molly leaned over and poked the fire to cover her emotions and a little silence while people took this in.

Thea breathed deep at this affirmation of something she had long wondered about. It gave such meaning to that terrible slave legacy. Perhaps the African Diaspora was the only way that ancient Black Mother form of the Goddess could make it to the new world. Would She ever have left her native land on her own? “I guess we’ve needed this time to integrate all the pieces – that melting pot of all the cultures and traditions,” she said to herself.

“You know, to me the Virgin Mary is another form of the old Goddess in disguise,” said Molly. “When I went to Europe I saw images of her everywhere with all the pagan symbols – snakes, rabbits, eggs, bees and hives. It’s like she became a ‘good girl,’ had God’s baby even though she hadn’t had sex (or so the story goes), bowed her head, and hid her power under that light blue veil.”

“I think of forget-me-nots as Mary’s goddess energy quietly reminding us of her every May,” said Cindy.

“Which is, of course, Mary’s month.”

“Cindy, don’t you make a flower essence of forget-me-not?”

“Yep – it’s to help us tune into the Goddess.”

“We must have drunk a bunch of it recently.” Everyone laughed.

“Then there’s the Black Madonna….”

“And Mary Magdalene.”

“Don’t get me started on her!” said Ursula. “What rich stories. Have you read the Elizabeth Cunningham novels of Magdalen as druidic student and a sexual priestess, among other blasphemous things like being Jesus’s wife. She tells the story of Jesus turning water into wine at the wedding as his own wedding to Magdalen. I have some of the books down at the store.”

“Even Athena had to hide herself,” said Molly. “I’ve read that she was originally one of the old black goddesses from northern Africa and chose to make herself Goddess of War – as well as wisdom – to compete with the men at their own game.”

“Kind of like how modern women put on shoulder pads.”

“I hate shoulder pads. I always take them out,” said Pia tartly. “I can be powerful without that added masculine breadth, thank you very much.”

“Let’s do a ritual soon on all the re-membered goddesses!”

“There’s one on Demeter coming up, check your email tomorrow,” said Pia.

“Good timing, Pia.”

”It was Ursula’s idea.”

“Demeter came to me strongly the other day. I’m still not sure exactly why but I’m waiting to see what unfolds. I know it is about mothers and daughters so I hope ya’ll will come.”

“How do the male Gods fit into all this,” asked Fern, another of the younger women.

“Very well, thank you, and it feels yummy,” quipped Pia. Everyone hooted thinking of penises and vaginas all fitting together. It took them awhile to calm down again.

“Ask Owen about Osiris and Orion some day. There are plenty of the male gods who have been hidden too.”

“The Green Man. Pan. The Christians turned him into the Devil. He’s goat footed – cloven hoofed – and is the wild, wild nature energy that our culture has been trying to tame. It’s time we allowed that back into our lives.

“And let the rivers run free…”

“They’re really all One, you know. And so are we,” said Molly quietly. “It helps us relate to their different aspects to divide them up. But really….”

“There’s a shooting star!” gasped Cindy and Rhea at the same moment.

“Guess we’re on the right track….”

“Anybody want some chocolate?”