A Journey from Rock to Human Consciousness: Lady of the Lake Leads the Way - Neela Bhattacharya Saxena

It was a misty day in Avalon. No, not in Glastonbury, England but its namesake in eastern Canada. Circumnavigating the peninsula, we were heading toward Mistaken Point, a UNESCO World Heritage site. The elements were in turmoil that day. Seeing an empty boat through the mist, I was transported to the land of Morgan La Fey and her enchanted tales in far off Avalon where pre-Christian priestesses wove their magic tapestry. It was June, and we were on a three-week road trip from Quebec to Newfoundland/Labrador and back. It brought me face to face with the very beginning of life, indigenous humans and other fellow creatures. It was a journey that immersed me into a timeless awareness of our evolutionary narrative in a circular form.

During Navaratri, those nine nights of the goddess, Indians celebrate the entire spectrum of Mother Consciousness from void to existence, emerging from rock to victorious awareness. From the shaping of the goddess with clay to her final immersion in water, it is a ritual that is a reminder of our human potential. This trip personified for me that entire spectrum. Greeted by numerous light houses, sentinels of our quest to understand ourselves, our environment and our inner lives, I became more excruciatingly aware of the chaos garden humans have planted. We dissociated ourselves from the integral Mother Principle, and landed ourselves in today’s environmental crisis. Having “come unstuck in time” I, a daughter of Tohu wa Bohu, the Void Mother, sing of a lotus lake of awareness. 

Mistaken Point houses five hundred-million-year-old, Precambrian fossils. Driving was hard, visibility minimal as we followed the park rangers’ truck. We then walked a strange path with low vegetation- led by a scientist, a native of the land, at home in this sparse landscape. Soon we reached the geological site that was also infamous for causing many shipwrecks. The roaring ocean crashed nearby. I was made aware of how elements collide, congregate and reveal our mortal body’s naked reality. We removed our shoes to protect the fossils beneath us. Suddenly a troop of scientists including the one who discovered the site showed up, adding to the excitement.

Ancient humans from east and west met here on an icy arctic landscape and left tracks for other travelers to trace. Some of us suffer from an Odysseus complex, perpetually on the road home, yet waylaid by enchanted siren songs. We drove further on, to Cape Race lighthouse. It was deserted, foggy and ethereal; the foghorn’s wailing was a reminder of tougher times. This one seemed utterly unreal and real at the same time, signifying the wayfarer’s guide to our existence. Rooted and solid, for me a light house is a symbol of our awareness as “beings towards death”, at once being and nothing. 

How enthralling this strange land, North of the border! We had arrived in Port Aux Basque, gone through the portal of twin hills, and entered the twilight zone. In Newfoundland all the seasons seem to coexist. Your eyes register soft green hills and deep dark lakes to the bluest of skies; then, suddenly you see floating ice, shimmering green and white in the brilliant sun. In this voyage, sacred and profane, I was led by the spirit of a Boethuk Indian who knew how to paint with red ochre, life energy. She must have permeated my being when I tied ritual objects on a tree in one of the grave sites we visited. 

In Twillingate, a five-mile hike led to magnificent icebergs, but who would have expected to behold the very core of the earth, its yellow mantle. We did so at another UNESCO World Heritage site in Gros Morne National Park. When continents collide, they create an inside out landscape, perplexing us. Are we in, or are we out? Looking for the footprints of Norse people, we drove down a spectacular coastal Highway called the Viking trail. The road also led to ancient thrombolites, first form of life, and layers of sedimentary rocks turned upside down by plate tectonics, revealing millions of years of geological wonders. The Viking village made the story of American Gods spectacularly vivid. 

We were now in a small raft wearing yellow body suits in the aptly named Witless Bay in St. Johns. Waves collapsed into particles of consciousness as two Minke and three Humpback whales gave us their darshan. We then did a sort of flower yoga around the majestic structure of the cosmos reflected in delicate flowers and plants at Memorial University's beautifully designed Botanical Garden. Surrounded by natural wonders, this was also an encounter with strangeness; one’s own body appeared as an unknowable stranger. We are the rock, pollen, and star dust evolved to witness ourselves evolve. But in the process, we dissociated ourselves from the entire pulsating world. It seems that human beings see with blinders on, only the tip of the iceberg. 

On the road again rushing towards what turned out to be a sprawling cemetery. Next to it was a Bed and Breakfast called Cupid's Haven which used to be St. Augustine's Church! Old churches were all over the place in a picture perfect small town called Trinity. It was a rainy day good to take a break from hiking, and relaxing with puffin viewing and berg-watching. Rows and rows of icebergs of every shape and size lined up in the distant horizon revealing the meaning of an iceberg alley. Soon it is time to be on a ship again set to be welcomed into Labrador by more of these marvelous bergs. After landing we would go to the visitor’s center to pick a satellite phone. The province hands them out as safeguards since the road across Labrador is isolated and without cell service. 

On an empty and wide gravel road, off the grid, as they say, I must have almost dozed off as my sons’ father drove. Suddenly I see a black spot in the middle of the road, sketched against the sky. A bear! First sighting of many to come; later a mother and cub pair came up to our car to say hello. So did a silver fox, glittering in its cozy fur. On the way to Mary's Harbor we stopped at Point Amour and Red Bay. Standing close to a 7500-year-old burial site of a young boy, play of words was crystal clear -L'Anse Amour/ Cove of Love is the Cove of Death -- L'Anse Mort. The lighthouse there is the 2nd highest in Canada, 3 feet shorter than the one in Gaspe. One can climb to the top to see the impressive light. Soon the fog would lift to reveal expansive views of Red Bay, the 4th UNESCO site we visited, a Basque whaling village from the 1500s, only 'discovered' in the last 40 years.

On the road home, we had a pretty straightforward crossing to Blanc Sablon, Quebec. It was a road taken by aboriginal inhabitants, now RT 389. Then we passed through this Eye of Quebec, on a most remote mountainous road. This ring like Manicouagan reservoir was created by a meteor millions of years ago. Its shape can only be seen from high up. It looks like the sign the Heptapods made in the film Arrival, a Uroboros, a serpent biting its own tail, symbolizing simultaneous consciousness. “And in every one of these cycles of human life there will be one hour where, for the first time one man, and then many, will perceive the mighty thought of the eternal recurrence of all things”, declared Nietzsche, the mad philosopher. Everything returns, as the river denotes, in Hermann Hesse’s Siddhartha. 

From stones to thrombolites to human consciousness is a journey that intricate design of our eye is grateful to witness. Good old Emerson knew this: “….I become a transparent eyeball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me….” How amazing that life evolved on this blue planet! How paradoxical that our spectacular intelligence has also brought us to the brink of self-destruction. Perhaps the time has come when the depth intelligence inherent in the Mother Principle awakens us to our full potential, revealing a planetary consciousness of once and future togetherness.

This was a pilgrimage from Chronos to Kairos, from linear time to sudden immersion into the timeless creative womb of the Dark Mother. Carl Sagan was right; the vastness of the cosmos is within us, but the light of consciousness is only a small part of that enormity. We can only see through the mist vaguely, only a tip of the iceberg. Lighthouse of our being flickers like a firefly. Now on, now off; eternal rhythm of birth and death in the scenic view called life. Spirit of the Virgin in that abandoned church spoke in unison with goddesses of Avalon and the Indic Devi, of the cosmic hologram that is reflected in the mirror of human consciousness. 

 

Descent of the Feminine into the Belly of the Beast: Wonder Women Inanna, Persephone, Yeshe, Savitri - Neela Bhattacharya Saxena

Wonder Woman, the film, has been making quite a stir among moviegoers, and in all that ruckus one may almost miss the deeply mythopoeic element that the tale captures. That is the descent of the divine feminine into the belly of the beast to rescue the lost wholeness of humankind. There is no way to skirt the fact that we must face the fiend within us so that we can be the light of consciousness that arises out of that clear seeing. The mythic heroine enters the realm of darkness, faces the beast within; then, without turning away in fear and loathing, she dissolves the specter.

Tales of women traversing brave new worlds are not always appreciated as hinting at profound truths of our human existence. However, our mythologies that hide deep psychological insight and wisdom in plain sight are replete with such women. Also, the age-old conviction that love can transform and transmute us is reflected in tales around the world. Beginning with Mesopotamian myths where goddess Inanna must descend into the hell realm to our current deluge of films, we may detect a psycho-spiritual stream just below the surface story line.  

In the DC film Wonder Woman the supreme power of Diana, the Amazon warrior, comes alive as she descends into the turmoil of the first world war, the war to have ended all wars. Instead it spawned many new ones. She interrupts history and infuses it with mythic resonance. While the story follows the popular comic book’s adventures, the visual depiction is startling as it presents an ancient goddess figure disguised as a comic book heroine. 

Our dual nature and the magic of love inherent in our very structure is portrayed with all the energy and thrill of modern technology. The story also reveals the power of transmutation through love. With her arms crossed, symbolizing the balanced power of intertwined life and death, Wonder Woman descends into our imagined landscape with an energy that heralds the return of the divine feminine in all her glory.   

              

The tale touches upon archetypal myths of many forms where a divine female quiets the demon. Whether it is Durga who eternally stops the buffalo demon as it arises in every eon or a Savitri who enters the realm of death to rescue her Satyavan, the myth ritually re-enacts an awesome truth.  We must awaken the feminine energy that helps us heal our split psyches.  Durga as she is portrayed in this 9^th century Pallava sculpture below keeps the head of the asura effortlessly under her feet. She enters the realm of the beast who represents unbridled but vital sexual energy and tames it in a form that is simultaneously sensual and pulsating with the sublime light of consciousness. Tantric India understood that magic and presents innumerable images of the Great Mother who is a composite figure beyond all dualism of flesh and spirit.

If we return to our most ancient mythic world and look at the Akkadian seal below, we can see an interesting archetypal pattern. Here the goddess Inanna has her foot on a lion, and according to a scholar, Durga’s lion riding image could be traced back to this figure. This five-thousand-year-old Sumerian goddess represents the paradoxical energy of desire and death. There are many tales about her, and she cannot be categorized in any straightforward way. It is said that the Akkadian high priestess Enheduanna wrote the hymns to her goddess, and slowly a local deity pervaded the entire Mesopotamian consciousness as a supreme figure with many names.

In The Descent of Inanna, the queen of heaven enters the underworld and faces her own dual nature.  As she passes through the gates of the netherworld, she is stripped of all her finery and her naked corpse hangs from a hook.  The poignant poem sings, “From the Great Above she opened her ear to the Great Below…My Lady abandoned heaven and earth to descend to the underworld” and how the majestic goddess is decreed by her sister Ereshkigal, “As she enters, remove her royal garments. /Let the holy priestess of heaven enter bowed low.” While the details of the tale are as complex and multilayered as any ancient myth, the archetype speaks loud and clear. Emptied of her pretensions and in her eventual resurrection, heaven and hell are reconciled.

When we enter the Greek world, we find a similar tale in the rape of Persephone/Proserpine/Kore. In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, we can hear the echo of the mythopoeic recognition that without facing the terror of life, we are unable to understand the majestic beauty of life.  Persephone the tender aged daughter of Demeter was taken into the world of Hades, the realm of death, our own unconscious. When her mother Demeter discovers the theft of her daughter, rage and grief stricken, she abandons her life sustaining role, searching for her child.

Thanks to Hekate, Helios and Hermes, Demeter finds out what Hades had done with Zeus’ blessings, and the process of restoration begins. Having tasted the pomegranate seed, Persephone is to periodically visit the underworld. As she is partially restored to Demeter, the cycle of life and seasons resumes. A mature Persephone becomes an all pervading chthonic goddess who rules the realm of the dead and initiates resurrection.  Powerful Eleusinian mysteries were woven around these myths.

Jean Shinoda Bolen in Goddesses in Every Woman interprets the Greek tale as an important landmark in the development of female psyche. In her form as Kore, this goddess remains a child. Bolen writes: “The Kore was the ‘nameless maiden’; she represents the young girl who does not know ‘who she is’ and is yet unaware of her desires or strength” and although “Persephone’s first experience with the underworld was as a kidnap victim, she later became Queen of the Underworld, the guide for others who visited there.” This aspect shows the power of the feminine to grow despite severe adversities inflicted on her. 

Tibetan story of Guru Dakini Yeshe Tsogyal, the female Buddha, repeats the archetype but with its charcteristic Tantric flavor that overlaps both Hindu and Buddhist myths. As an emanation of Nila Saraswati Tara, Yeshe’s story mirrors the myth of another rape of the goddess. In the Brihannila Tantra, a Shakta text, we learn how the goddess of speech was kidnapped by two demon brothers whom she herself had blessed with boons. She is tied up in a dark underwater pit with deadly poisons that she absorbs and becomes Nila/blue.  She is able to save the world (Tarini) only by becoming one with all of its horrors. 

Yeshe Tsogyal had to face incredble suffering, abuse and was raped by seven bandits, but was given the supreme wisdom of delightful emptiness thanks to the love and teachings of Guru Rinpoche. As Inanna unleashes plagues and Demeter withdraws from life, Yeshe too unleashes her wrath on Tibetan people to avenge the rape. She ultimately initiates the rapists themselves into the Vajra path as she recognizes her own nature and abandons hatred of these violating men.

 In Sky Dancer: The Secret Life and Songs of the Lady Yeshe Tsogyal, Keith Dowman retells her story.  Yeshe utters these powerful words: “O pity! Listen you faithful, sad Tibetan people! This Supreme Being is the Dakini Queen of the Lake of Awareness! My defiled body has been absorbed in immaculate inner space, And I am a Buddha in the lotus-light of dynamic space; I tell you you need not be anxious, be happy” (181).

The well-known story of Savitri embedded in the mythic landscape of India was first found in the Mahabharata. It is immortalized by Rishi Aurobindo in his epic Savitri.  She too descends into the underworld and faces Yama, the god of death, to bring her beloved Satyavan back to life.  She had chosen her husband only to find out from Narada of his short life. Unrelenting, she marries him and at the terrible hour, through profound courage, strength and intelligence she debates with Yama. Pleasing him, she restores not only her husband to life but regenerates the kingdoms of her father and father in law.

In Aurobindo’s retelling Savitri takes on a cosmic significance. In her name, she carries the resonance of the Sun god Savitra and she is the goddess of the light of consciousness. He makes Savitri the beacon of regeneration for the entire cosmic and evolutionary awakening. He writes how Savitri must “Look into the lonely eyes of immortal Death/ And with her nude spirit measure the Infinite’s night.” It is the depth of her love that makes her the fitting heroine. Aurobindo portrays her as “A deep of compassion, a hushed sanctuary, / Her inward help unbarred a gate in heaven;/ Love in her was wider than the universe, / The whole world could take refuge in her single heart.” (Book One, Canto 2, p 15)

Aurobindo’s Savitri belongs to the epic realm and could be inaccessible without literary initiation. However, our current visual and virtual world is replete with many echoes of the archetypal image. In the latest version of the film Beauty and the Beast, we once again see a fearless young woman entering the layer of the so called “beast” and transforming him through the power of love. 

It was one of our favorite cartoon films when the kids were young, and Mrs. Pots with little Chip on her side singing away was delightful. Now watching it in this recent version where Emma Watson brings her Harry Potter magic and Dan Stevens is charming as the beast, it is clear why such a tale enthralls us.  These wonder women from around the world clothe themselves in mythic raiment and speak in a single voice that renews life by immersing us in its apparent opposite.