Temple of Solace

Ash is now resting at Wartook, in the Grampians, in Western Victoria. I took him with me because I was working in that region and he deteriorated dramatically overnight. A humane vet euthanased him in the back of my car and the people on the property where I was staying buried him in a grave, under a pine tree, facing Mt Difficult.

I seem destined to keep looking in to the void. I know there is something within it but I am having a bit of trouble discerning what it is. Ash did trust me and you are right, I did not let him down. The vet injected him in the back of the car so he was in his own cocoon, his weary head dropped and he went to sleep. Facing Mount Difficult is full of meaning for both of us.

For years I had this numinous dream, which involved climbing and traversing something like Mt Difficult. I would come to a plateau, only to discover that I had to go on, that there was another peak to master. Having Ash succumb to throat cancer, watching him waste and decline in such a similar way to Darryl was particularly tough. The parallels wereextraordinary.

So now there is this emptiness again. Adoring eyes are gone. Ash was legendary when it came to watching over and guarding me. He did what so many could not do. He sat with me during tough times. What sort of universe removes him in this way? How is someone supposed to findmeaning in an action like this?

Yet, within the darkness there has been a glimmer of light. Being here, at Wartook, meant that I had very real support and was able to bury him in a particularly lovely place. He has not gone in to some landfill and I am not left with the ashes of Ash. I have some of Darryl’s ashes at home. I think maybe the children can scatter me with him here. It has all been just so difficult.

At the appointed time we must each return to our source.
For Anne who is left behind.

Deep peace I breathe into you
Oh weariness here, O ache, here!
Deep peace, a soft white dove to you;
Deep peace, a quiet rain to you;
Deep peace, an ebbing wave to you!
Deep peace, yellow wind of the east from you;
Deep peace, blue wind of the west to you;
Deep peace, green wind of the north from you;
Deep peace, red wind of the south to you!
Deep peace, pure gold of the sun to you;
Deep peace, pure silver of the moon to you;
Deep peace, pure green of the grass to you;
Deep peace, pure brown of the living earth to you;
Deep peace, pure gray of the dew to you;
Deep peace, pure blue of the sky to you!
Deep peace of the running wave to you,
Deep peace of the flowing air to you,
Deep peace of the quiet Earth to you,
Deep peace of the sleeping stones to you,
Deep peace of the Goddess to you,
Deep peace of the God to you,
Deep peace of the Flock of Stars to You.
Deep Peace of the Spirits to You.
Deep Peace, Deep Peace.

- Old Irish Blessing of Peace

From The Wintered Womb

Underneath the thrice ploughed, fertile, fallow field
Impregnated within a wintered, woven, womb
Of richly composted humus
I lay seeking sustenance, nourishment from
The oxygen filled wintered mist that
Drizzles, seeping, replenishing the amniotic fluids
That trickle through the membranous umbilical cord
Fertilizing, greening,
Ensuring a bountiful spring harvest.

Heather Blakey

A beautiful pinwheel in space might one day blast Earth with death rays.

Unlike the moon-sized Death Star from Star Wars, which has to get close to a planet to blast it, this blazing spiral has the potential to burn worlds from thousands of light-years away.

“I used to appreciate this spiral just for its beautiful form, but now I can’t help a twinge of feeling that it is uncannily like looking down a rifle barrel,” said researcher Peter Tuthill, an astronomer at the University of Sydney.

Today I am reeling. The humane veterinarian who came to our home today has diagnosed our Lab Retriever with throat cancer.

Vada, my son’s Staffordshire was run over by a truck, in a freak accident, in front of me in August 2006. Monty, my dear old man Cavalier died from cancer in November 2006. My husband Darryl lost his battle with cancer on January 19th 2007.

Ash came to us from a shelter in April 2007. For about four months he has been trying to tell everyone that he is not well. We listened and heard but back in January the local veterinarian, after doing extensive blood tests, implied that we were just imagining things. The small lump that they detected then is now the size of an orange and more tumors have filled his throat. All we can do is palliate with cortisone.

Some would tell me that Ash came to sponge up all the remnants of the disease that lingered in the energy fields here, to act as a kind of protector. Well, if that is the case I may as well put up a sign on the front door saying ‘In Path of Death Star - Enter at Your Own Risk’. I will not accept that Ash is some kind of human sacrifice, given to protect those who love his gentle, loving soul.

But there is no doubt that the Death Star has had us in its gaze for a little too long. Of course, there is always a positive about living in the path of a Death Star. You learn to live and value all life. In this death denying society, where some veterinarians prey on human emotions and subject animals to a barrage of chemotherapy and other painful treatments, it is a tonic to meet someone who is not in to death denial, who will not try to tell you that if you stay positive and consume kilos of broccoli seeds you will live forever. We all live in the gaze of the dreaded death star. Facing death, accepting that all living organisms have a finite time, has forced me to live, love and make considered choices.

We are going the My Best Friend path and while I am very unhappy I feel like a safety net has just been put around me, that forces stronger than any horrid death star are being gathered to make sure that, whatever time Ash has left, is filled with love.

Remembering Darryl
August 1948 - January 2007
Remembering thirty seven years together
Remembering precious times and places
Staffa - 2001

Places, I still can feel those places
Our hearts were never lighter
The sky was twice as new

Places, what happen to those places
Though they have changed forever
I’m still in love with you

Moments, do you remember moments
And nothing seems to matter
Apart from me and you

Passion, wider than the ocean
Timeless as the mountain
We’ll go closer
We’ll go wiser every day

Places, I still remember places
Those precious times and places
When everything was new

Places, do you remember places
And nothing seems to matter
I’m still in love with you

Theme from Out of Africa
for Darryl
with love from
Heather

In ancient Greece, the Hippocrene was a spring on Mt. Helicon around which the muses would dance to find poetic inspiration. Hippocrene, Pirene and Aganippe are known as the springs of Pegasus. Located at the foot of Mount Helicon in Boeotia these springs flow into the Parnassus. These fountains are the most celebrated wells that gushed forth under the hoof of Pegasus. They had the virtue of conferring poetic inspiration on those who drank their waters. The Muses often immersed themselves in the waters when tired or in need of fresh inspiration and then would dance and sing on the tender greensward that bordered the fountains. Hippocrene means ‘Spring of the Horse’. Pirene means ‘to flow around’ and Aganippe means ‘The Gentle Mare’. These names were also given to the nymphs who live in and tend to these fountains.

The image of a fountain of inspiration is significant. Water is the giver of life. Writing is as essential to human existence as the water we drink.

Poet and physician William Carlos Williams called poetry the “underground current of all our lives.” He knew that poetry itself is a wellspring, whose waters are full of healing power.

Evidence of the power of the Hippocrene to confer creative inspiration on the bard lies within ‘Ode to A Nightingale’ by John Keats. After noting that the nightingale can ’singest of summer in full-throated ease’ Keats sighs

O, for a draught of vintage!
That hath been Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim.

Little wonder then that writer’s make the pilgrimage to the Hippocrene, if only in their fertile imagination, to bathe and wet their lips, that they may be given swiftly flowing verse.

The following piece bears witness to the power of taking a flight of imagination and working with a muse After sitting in quiet contemplation, fishing the streams of his psyche, Jonathan Mynard, a Year 12 English student at La Trobe Secondary College wrote a rich piece about his ‘Faith’.

Faith
by John Mynard

I have never seen the wind. But the tree branches wave to one another and the leaves flutter. The clouds meander from horizon to horizon, appearing to block the sun and passing soon after. I feel a force on my face that penetrates my clothes and ruffles my hair. It makes me shiver and wish I could be inside where it is warm.

I have never seen sound. The crash of waves on sand, the bubbling of a creek as water races and dodges over rocks. The voice of someone special, a sweet word uttered in love. The harsh word spoken to pierce, to hurt. The silence that becomes louder than sound, that is depressive, heavy. The music that is infinitely complex but so simple at the same time.

I have never seen love. The inexpressible something in the eyes, communicated at many levels. The actions that speak more than words and proves deep care and trust. The tender touch and few comforting words offered for a troubled soul.

I have never seen time. Yesterday I was young, today here I am, and tomorrow I will be old. Silence, depression, and anticipation: do clocks really never slow or stop? Tomorrow becomes today which neither here is content. For it must slip into yesterday and yesteryear and I am powerless to interfere.

I have never seen me. The thoughts that stream endlessly, the wishes hope and dream. The person trapped inside my body, who writes the words more than the hand, speaks more than the tongue or lips.

I have never seen God. The universe exists, the earth is here; life and purpose permeates them both. The close friend whom I know and communicate with. The knowledge, the assurance, the purpose, the revelation; the relationship, the love experienced, the peace, the hope… All true and real, invaluable.

I have never seen the wind.

Jonathon wrote this only after repeatedly practicing stream of consciousness writing. He had the remarkable capacity of detaching himself in the bustling classroom, distancing himself from the jostling for power, concentrating on the task at hand.

Heather Blakey - The House of the Muse

A few days after your visit to Sibyl’s Tree you return, looking to explore further. When you were in the chamber you realised that there were doors that led deeper within the tree. Like the young woman who could not resist using the one key that Blue Beard forbade her to use, you cannot help yourself. The desire to discover more is simply too strong.

Upon arriving at the tree you crawl in the narrow opening, knowing now that it will adjust to you and your size. There is still a strong smell of wood and moss and it is damp and moist inside. Within the darkness you reach and touch the walls and you can feel the blood pulsating through the veins of this living organism. Your eyes adjust to the darkness quite quickly this time and now you move forward without any hesitation. The path is familiar.

You come to the end of a passageway. In the centre of the side is a doorway made of two immense upright stones topped by a massive lintel. There are two torches burning at the door providing light for the entrance into a cavern. You emerge into a shadowy great hall. Today it is empty. There is no one waiting to talk to you. For a brief moment you wonder if you should have taken it upon yourself to return but then you notice that one of the doors is adjar and so you make your way through it.

The door leads to a landing and you carefully make your way down some stairs. To your surprise it is lit with torches. The passageway leads to another cavern. You can see beyond the cavern. There is water, lush green grass and a jetty where small boats are moored. The sunlight sparkles off it. Across the lake is a deep green wood.

As you walk out on to the jetty your feel a crisp cool breeze upon your face and you sigh with contentment. You spin and swirl, admiring the beauty of this tranquil setting. All is quiet. You sit upn a stone that is shaped as if it is a chair. It is just the right size for you. As you enjoy the beauty of this natural setting you are aware of a rustling and out of the corner of your eye you discern a movement.

Something comes to you. It may soar from above or come to you on foot. The creature offers you passage upon one of the boats that are moored nearby………

Ten months since Darryl’s death it is still a struggle. The left and right parts of my brain appear to be at war with one another. The left fills me with doubts and uncertainties while the right wants me to rebuild and fearlessly seek out treasure. A new meditative tool has appeared as a result of my shiatsu therapist. I have found the work of Ted Andrews. Animal Speak and Animal Wise are two books that are near my bedside table and I have decided to learn more about my animal totems. Raven and dog have been with me for a long time but today a new guide emerged.

General Description:

The kookaburra is a large, Australian species of kingfisher. It is a carnivorous bird and has developed some fame as being a snake and lizard killer. Kookaburras are famous for their cackling call which sounds unmistakably like raucous laughter. Kookaburras are intelligent and quite social, and can become quite tame at picnic spots, accepting handouts from people. Kookaburras mate for life, and both care for the young. Offspring are known to remain and help care for new families. A kookaburra’s beak can reach 10cm in length. They are predated upon by foxes, cats and raptors.

Lessons and Challenges:

The presence of kookaburra in a reading (or in your observations) indicates that it is a time of signals and omens. Kookaburra is a strong, bold energy which tends to resonate with god energies. Pay attention to opportunities around you, and listen to nature and to the world around you, you may find that you are being given some important messages at this time.

The kookaburra encourages us to use laughter as a form of healing. Laughter can be a positive force for the body, even when we force it and we don’t really ‘feel’ it. Laughter between people is a way that reinforces bonding and helps us to enjoy life even when things are very tough. Look at how much you laugh every day, chances are if kookaburra has flown into your life you could stand to laugh a little more. It is time to turn your hurt into happiness, and the power of laughter is a great road to doing just that.

Kookaburra draws our attention to family, and our family relationships. Often kookaburra energy suggests that family connections are important in our lives at this time, either because of rivalry (particularly amongst siblings) or because we are looking at our role within the family unit. Ask yourself what your responsibilities are to your family, and what their responsibilities are to you. If you feel you are not being honoured or respected enough by your blood relations, ask yourself if you have given them the honour and respect you feel you deserve.

Kookaburra has a very powerful healing energy, and its presence in a reading or in your life can indicate a time when profound healing is occurring. This healing is not just happening to you, but to people around you, and creates a more healthful ripple effect that creates positive changes to come. Kookaburra can indicate that the querent has reached the end of a difficult journey, and new healthful growth has already begun.

The best way to end old patterns that no longer help us, is by confronting why we developed them in the first place. Often we develop bad habits or negative thought patterns because of fear and insecurities. Kookaburra is the energy of conquering fears and in turn, ending old patterns that aren’t nourishing. If there is a particular habit that you’re not happy with, working with kookaburra energy can help to dissolve it.

Everyone has personal truths, these might be thoughts, or ethics that particularly resonate with who you are as a person. A personal truth for example, might involve recognising that you are an artist or a healer at heart, or could indicate that you will stand up for your beliefs, gender, race or sexuality. Kookaburra helps you to hunt down your truths, and these truths enable you to recognize your own inner strength. In turn, you are able to teach your truths to others, and also aid others in finding and recognizing their own truths. You may find yourself teaching others in an informal setting, by sharing your passions and your beliefs with others.

From a light-hearted position, kookaburra encourages us to better woo our partners and our friends. It is time to shower them with presents even if it is not their birthday! If you have no money, you can hand-make cards or presents, cook them sweets or food, or even just gift them with your presence and attention. Let the people around you know that they are loved.

The Shadow Aspects:

Kookaburra’s shadow energy is very confrontational, and can teach harsh and abrasive lessons. Kookaburra teaches us the value of family. We cannot take our children, or our parents for granted, even if they do not seem to ‘nourish’ us on the surface. Family should be respected no matter what, no matter what arguments take place, no matter how you have been deceived, no matter how you have deceived others. Kookaburra forces you to confront issues relating to ‘family,’ either by constantly bringing family drama to the surface, or by highlighting how lonely you feel without a strong sense of what it is to have a family.

Communion:

Like all animal helpers, this animal will only appear when right and appropriate, and cannot be forced to visit you, commune with you, or share messages with you. Kookaburra energy – particularly in Australia – is quite forthcoming and bold, and while it may be an easy energy to ‘contact,’ kookaburra is not always an easy guide to communicate with! In my own spiritual encounters, kookaburra can be quite harsh and clipped, delivering short (and sometimes cryptic) messages. However, this will change depending on what kookaburra is trying to teach you! Remember to be respectful, kookaburra is a predator, and has a very proud energy.

from Wildspeak, Totem Dictionary - perfect for Australians

Kookaburra Flies in Bringing Memories

courtesy of WildSpeak 

As a small child my favourite Sunday outing was a visit to the Arches, a place I have written about on this site. The Arches, on the Dargo Road, approximately eight kilometer outside Briagolong, in East Gippsland, Victoria was the enchanted world that I was privileged to regularly visit with my parents, brothers and sister during the 1950’s. One of my strongest memories is of Archie Hair, feeding a ‘pet’ Kookaburra small pieces of sausage. Archie and his Kookaburra taught me about light, laughter and treasure, about prospecting and searching for gold. As I try to rebuild my life this does seem to be a challenge that faces me.

Since coming home to Riversleigh, after a long stay in the City of Ladies, Sibyl Riversleigh is planning to spend a good deal of time showing people her estate. Sibyl does not take typical tours. She prefers to head out on little day adventures. Today she is in the garden and will lure people through a portal with a diffence. If you choose to come with Sibyl post your repsonses under Sibyl’s Scrapbook here at the house and do make sure to keep a copy in your room for safekeeping.

Sibyl’s Portal.

You head out of your room and down the grand staircase, a staircase that is very much like the staircase in Gone With the Wind or Rebecca. Ebony Wilder, the housekeeper, who has come back to Riversleigh with Sibyl, greets you briefly and reminds you that dinner is at 7.00 p.m sharp. Since it is only early in the morning and the sun is shining brightly you give this little thought. You have a basket of supplies with some sandwiches and a thermos so the day is your oyster so to speak. You smile at Ebony. Perhaps it is a trick of the light but you look back because you are sure Ebony had changed shape as you turned to leave. Things are like this here in Riversleigh. Things have a habit of changing shape and tomorrow even the staircase may be gone and you may find your room is a small quarter in a place that looks nothing like what it looks like today. No wonder Alice got confused when she went down that hole with the rabbit.

As you wend your way through the walled garden and towards the grove beyond you sing a little song and think happy thoughts. Sparkling sunlight and soft greens surround you. Riversleigh’s gardens are amongst the most beautiful in the world, rivaling Sissinghurst or Hidecote Manor.

When you arrive at the grove you find Sibyl and some other residents gathered. Sibyl is leading a meditation which involves an old tree. This tree has boughs which seem to reach into the heavens. The branches block your view of the sky and you cannot see the uppermost branches. An apple is growing on one branch but it does seem that there are walnuts on another.

There is a small opening at the base of this old tree and Sibyl encourages you to crawl inside. After a momen’t hesitatation you crawl in the narrow opening, only to find that it opens as you move, as if adjusting to you and your size. There is a strong smell of wood and moss and it is damp and moist inside. Within the darkness you reach and touch the walls and you can almost feel the blood pulsating through the veins of this living organism. Your eyes have not adjusted and it takes some courage to move forward in the darkness.

At first it is quiet but then you are aware that there is a distinct sound here. As you move forward the sound gets louder. Could this be a heartbeat? Are you listening to the heartbeat of the tree, to the heartbeat of creation? You move forward slowly and carefully but it is all so surreal and feels dream like.

You come to the end of a passageway. In the centre of the side is a doorway made of two immense upright stones topped by a massive lintel. There are two torches burning at the door providing light for the entrance into a cavern. It feels like a womb.

You emerge into a shadowy great hall. In the centre is a hearth with the glowing embers of a fire. Seated before the fire facing away from you is a hooded figure. Across the hearth from this figure is a bench. You circle halfway around the hearth clockwise and sit facing the figure. This is one of your guide. You bow before your guide.

As you look into the eyes of your guide you realise that you are looking in to your own eyes.

You may now question your guide. Your guide provides some answers to your questions.

When you have finished, your guide gives you a token that you will be able to use for help and guidance after your return to Riversleigh.

In a fair exchange, your guide now asks you a question. Answer as best you can. You find that you have a gift for your guide. Look at it and present it to your guide with thanks.

Finish your circuit around the hearth, go behind the guide, and carefully retrace your steps.

You come back to Riversleigh just in time for dinner where guest share their experiences inside Sibyl’s old tree.

‘Sibyl in Wonderland’
by Heather Blakey November 2007

A Boab near Derby, Western Australia

Every boab tree is unique. They have character and personality as you would expect of such an ancient creature. Some individual boab trees are 1500 years old and older, which makes them the oldest living beings in Australia, and puts them amongst the oldest in the world.

Aboriginals used the giants as shelter, food and medicine. For the white settlers they served as easily recognisable land marks and meeting points, and not to forget as impromptu prison cells.

To read more about the Boab Tree check out this Outback Travel Guide and visit the Dig Tree at Soul Food

Hope, in the shape of companionship remains
United we can contain and manage grief
Pandora’s Box
Heather Blakey October 5 2007

The following story has been retold by Robert Hoffman. I searched for a version of Pandora’s Box online after my first session with a grief counsellor. During this session we discussed how, when my husband died on January 19 2007, I took my backside off the box where I had carefully stored all my broken bits. I only took it off for a little while but when the lid opened all sorts of horrible things leapt out the box and splattered themselves all over the place. Horrid little sprites, wasp like beasts, spiteful creatures with bull ant stings attacked me and I have been like the walking wounded ever since.

I jammed the lid back on and now, ten months later I have found that not everyone had stepped out of the box. Hope remained and I have found she keeps taking different shapes. She has transmuted and taken the shape of a shiatsu therapist who helped me see I could be whole again. Now she is looking at me through the eyes of a grief counsellor. I am going to take all the broken bits, carefully examine them and work with her to see if we can make me whole again. Obviously I will not be putting all this material online. I think it is enough that you know that I am doing this.

Heather Blakey - Webmaster of the Soul Food Cafe.
October 3 2007

The Story of Pandora’s Box

As the mists of time part and show us the past we see that even before the time of men, before our puny struggles and trials, there was life on the earth. If we look closely we can see the battles of the Titans and the Olympians. Such battles as men have never witnessed raged. Mountains were cast down and trampled under the fierce feet of the Titans. Thunderbolts pierced the sky and the lightning crowned the ever-restless waves.

Every day brought another victory or defeat for the forces involved in the struggle. For countless ages the battle continued. In this time before man neither side was assured victory. Even the immortals themselves had doubts. In time, the immortals became stronger. Because of this the great war was finally stilled. Zeus and his family had won the war and as victors, divided the earth.

Poseidon, Zeus’ brother, was given dominion over the sea and its creatures. Since the earth was mostly sea it was a high honor. Often Zeus would look from Olympus and see Poseidon dancing in the waves as he cast about the earth. Such tempests he could throw for fun. But Zeus knew there was more to this than was readily apparent. For when Poseidon threw his storms over the waters he was only keeping his skills sharp in case their enemies should rise.

To his brother, Hades, he gave the underworld. This was the end of all creatures and because of this was considered to be important — if dreary and somber. Though even Zeus had trouble seeing into the gloom that constantly swept that hard land there came a time when he too could hear the lost souls moaning for their loss of life and love. Though Zeus shuddered when he heard their cries he knew his brother was well satisfied and that was important.

With each of his kin satisfied life became wonderful for the immortals. Each pleasure sought was a pleasure gained. Everything they wanted was theirs and more.

As much as each desired the tranquility and serenity of this life there was another part of them that longed for the changes brought by confrontation. Having no wish to resurrect their enemies Zeus cast about for some other way to amuse his brothers and sisters.

From the clay of the earth he created the first creature that could reason. Man, he called him. When his creation desired another name Zeus granted he be called Epimetheus.

Epimetheus lived much like the gods. Sickness and even death were unknown. He was content and because of this his actions became predictable.

From his high seat on Olympus Zeus watched Epimetheus go about his day in happiness. Zeus gave Epimetheus dominion over the earth and its creatures. Epimetheus responded by praising Zeus. Zeus relished his praise.

But endless praise, in time, becomes as boring as no praise and Zeus decided to help his creation by giving him a mate. He called his brothers and sisters together and told them of his plan, “We must make this creature, this woman, to be like Epimetheus and yet unlike him. Where we took the best of all of us and created the man, this woman must be different.”

“What do you mean, different?”

“Poseidon, this creature must be different in every way from man. Where man is hard, she will be soft. Where man is strong she will be weak. Where man is foolish, she will be wise. Where man is brave she will be timid. Where man shall be scared she will be brave.”

“But, when they combine their talents won’t they rival us?”

“Of course, but we won’t tell them.” Zeus said with a smile.

“You know best, brother. What can we give to help?” The sea god said as his beard began to dry and blow in the freshening breeze. Zeus rose from the throne and walked among them. With a stern look over his marble-like face he said, “From each of you I want the opposites in the world. When we give the woman the gift of love, we will also give the gift of jealousy. Where we give creature weakness, we must give her strength. We will make her appearance rival that of Aphrodite, but her insecurity will cause her to become vain. In time all of the contrary elements we can bring will be combined.”

“Zeus, what shall you call this woman?”

“Hades, I shall call her Pandora.

“I see. Pandora means all. Very good.”

And so the elements of the earth were gathered and separated according to their properties. To an intelligent mind the gift of an overwhelming curiosity was given. Zeus asked Athena why she gave this pair. Athena replied, “Though they seem to not be the opposite, they truly are. For as much as curiosity can lead to knowledge, curiosity eventually leads to the loss of that same knowledge. While knowledge is good and strong, it can be weakened by the need to know too much.”

Zeus, a cloud passing over his countenance, finally smiled. “I see, Athena, but will the subtlety be lost on these creatures?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps. But we must give them the chance to be more together than they can ever be alone. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, I do.” He said with the cloud moving away and the light of his smile warming the hearts of all.

When Epimetheus found Zeus’ gift he was delighted. She was clever with her fingers and could do many of the things that troubled him. For all the time he had been living he had never managed to be patient enough to weave leaves together into a cup for the pure water that flowed from the earth. She mastered this almost immediately and Epimetheus took special care to thank the gods for their wonderful gift.

But on Olympus complacency soon lead to boredom and one day after a tiring day of hearing himself praised he called Hades to him. “Listen, I want you to go to the dark places you know so well and gather what you find. I want the sprites of disease, hunger, hopelessness, cruelty, and the rest. Bind them into a strong box and bring it to me.”

“What for, brother?”

“Hades, I have my reasons. Please do as I ask.”

“Of course.”

The sun shone brightly overhead for the morning rain had passed leaving the world lush and green. Together Pandora and Epimetheus sat under an olive tree and tasted of the sweet gift of Athena once more. Up the road they saw a man walking carrying a heavy box. Together they ran to see if they might be of some help. Pandora asked, “Can we help carry your burden?” The traveler looked deeply into her eyes and with a hint of sadness said, “Yes, I suppose you must.”

Together Epimetheus and Pandora picked up the large box and carried it as they led the stranger to the shade of the olive tree. Placing the box down gently Pandora ran to fetch some clear water. Quickly she fashioned the reeds into a cup and brought the cool drink to the stranger.

With a sigh he accepted her gift and drank deeply of the blood of the earth. The stern look on his face finally began to ease and he knew he must continue his journey. “If it wouldn’t be too much to ask, could I leave my chest here for a while? I need to hurry to complete my journey.” Epimetheus looked over the young man and smiled, “Of course. Your box will be safe with us. Come after it when you will — it will be here.”

“Listen, Epimetheus and Pandora, you must not attempt to look inside. There could be terrible consequences if you do.”

Epimetheus nodded his understanding and smiled,” Don’t worry about it. Nothing will disturb your box.”

Pandora nodded her agreement, but her eyes never left the carefully decorated box. When the young man left to continue his journey he was suddenly gone. Epimetheus smiled, as he knew that he must have been one of the immortals.

Days passed and the box stood where the stranger had placed it. Often Pandora would look at the beautiful designs carved into its surface and wonder. She thought that anyone who could create such beauty for the outside of a container must have something special beyond comprehension enclosed.

Athena’s seed of curiosity began to grow. Soon Pandora was spending every waking hour examining the box. Though she could not read, she knew there were words written in gold on the top of the box. The carvings of the men and women were beautiful and for hours she would let her fingers trace the designs quietly while an ever-growing curiosity encompassed her.

One day when Epimetheus was away for a minute Pandora placed her ear close to the box to see if any sound would escape. In a voice so faint it might have been the wind she heard, “Help us. Please open the box and let us out, Pandora.”

Her fingers pulled her long black hair out of her way and she placed her naked ear against the box to see if she was being deceived. Faintly, but more clearly than before she heard, “Pandora, let us out. We need to be free.”

With great hesitation she decided to peek inside to see if whoever was asking for her help looked like someone she would like to help. When she fingered the cord holding the chest closed, she was surprised that the knot fell open in her hands. She placed her hands on the edges of the lid. Casting her eyes around she looked to see if Epimetheus could see her. He could not. Faintly the voices cried again. With a stern resolve she began to lift. The box, instead of being hard to open as she anticipated, opened easily.

Pandora was expecting to be able to look and see who or what had called her. Instead the creatures of the box flew out in a torrent. Round her head and body they flew quickly stopping only long enough to bite and sting. Each of them were hateful spiteful creatures. She tried to shut the lid to stop their rush for freedom but they had escaped. After they tortured her for long moments they flew off to seek Epimetheus. What had she done?

She cried softly as she sat on the green grass under the pale sun and leaned against the box. Tears stained her beautiful face and she hung her head in shame. For though the creatures had not identified themselves something in her knew who they were.

Her bitter tears were amplified by the screams of Epimetheus as he was attacked without mercy. Finally when his cries had faded, Pandora heard a small sweet voice ask, “Pandora, can you please release me?”

“Why should I? Didn’t you see who they were?”

“Of course I did, they are my sisters. But I can assure you I am not like them.”

Pandora who felt all was lost sadly opened the box. A beautiful sprite with gossamer wings flew shimmering into the sunlight. Round and round her body the creature flew lighting only when a sore was encountered. As the creature touched the hurt — it was gone. When Pandora had been healed completely the creature flew to heal Epimetheus. Pandora sat back against the box and thought. Hope, she was certain that was the creature’s name continued her healing.

In time the sprite flew back and rested exhausted on Pandora’s shoulder. Pandora watched as the creature drifted painlessly into her flesh and took up residence in her heart. She knew she had been given the gift that, even though it could not erase the pain she had brought to the world, could make that pain easier.

She smiled a soft smile for knowing there is hope, and hope is sometimes enough.

Deep peace I breathe into you
Oh weariness here, O ache, here!
Deep peace, a soft white dove to you;
Deep peace, a quiet rain to you;
Deep peace, an ebbing wave to you!
Deep peace, yellow wind of the east from you;
Deep peace, blue wind of the west to you;
Deep peace, green wind of the north from you;
Deep peace, red wind of the south to you!
Deep peace, pure gold of the sun to you;
Deep peace, pure silver of the moon to you;
Deep peace, pure green of the grass to you;
Deep peace, pure brown of the living earth to you;
Deep peace, pure gray of the dew to you;
Deep peace, pure blue of the sky to you!
Deep peace of the running wave to you,
Deep peace of the flowing air to you,
Deep peace of the quiet Earth to you,
Deep peace of the sleeping stones to you,
Deep peace of the Goddess to you,
Deep peace of the God to you,
Deep peace of the Flock of Stars to You.
Deep Peace of the Spirits to You.
Deep Peace, Deep Peace.

- Old Irish Blessing of Peace

Helen, Greg and I took Darryl to the place he had asked to rest in. The Stoney Creek, within an hour of Melbourne, gurgles through remnants of old Lemuria. We all agreed that this is the perfect resting place.

Fly free Darryl!
September 2007

le Enchanteur, the famed Enchantress who presides over Lemuria, Soul Food and all that it encompasses, is having some quiet time while everyone else rushes around and works at a frenetic pace. Time out in the Temple of Solace, time to read some comforting words, to be reassured that you are not alone, is time well spent each day. Make it your daily practice to come to the Temple and enjoy all that it has to offer.