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Hold the Light: Wisdom from Myth, Legend & Fairytale: The Fall of Atlantis

4/25/2020

The Atlantean world crumbled because it wavered from the law. It forgot that Nature was the ruler of all things, and in attempting to survive unnaturally it was destroyed.
Manly P Hall: Ancient Wisdom

History tells a linear tale; mythology is cyclical in nature, universally beginning at a high point like Paradise or in a Golden Age, an age of innocence as Blake might say, or one of a highly evolved & uncorrupted consciousness. The myriad tales that follow trace the devolution from & return to such realms or states of consciousness.

History tells it the other way around - from a different beginning - and the stories that follow concern the evolution towards the attainment of consciousness in a Darwinian sense.

The resulting paradigms appear at odds - diametrically opposed – inhabiting either ends of a stark polarity. Yet both ways of looking have their importance in different ways. They do not cancel one another out.

Carl Jung, the swiss psychiatrist who brought to the western imagination the notion of the collective unconscious speaks of a Two Million Year Old being - an aspect of consciousness residing within us all - a deep racial memory if you like - containing the whole of human history & and pre - history - the full story - the all and everything, the majority of which has sadly been forgotten & lost in the mists of time.

Yet when we delve into this shared collective unconscious we find remnants of such stories, fragments of dreams so to speak, that still recall wonderous beginnings & great civilisations and also tales of how they fell from grace and - in the Myth of Atlantis - brought upon themselves a cataclysmic deluge that swept over the earth, engulfing & destroying all in it's wake.

Tolkien himself was for many years disturbed by such a dream which he speaks of in his letter to Christopher Bretherton.

"This legend or myth or dim memory of some ancient history has always troubled me. In sleep I had the dreadful dream of the ineluctable Wave, either coming out of the quiet sea, or coming in towering over the green inlands.
--Letter to Christopher Bretherton, 16 July 1964

The story is said to have always fascinated him causing him to weave its dark image into his haunting tale - The Fall of Númenor, part of the Silmarillion & The Lost Tales.

'This legend, myth or dim memory of some ancient history,' he writes - as if he too in some way struggles with the ideal categorisation. And when Jung speaks of the two million year old being residing in us all - is he speaking in purely historical terms or is he, in delving deep into the unconscious, stepping through a portal, like Tolkien routinely did, into the magical realms of Once Upon a Time and there glimpsing the great ahistorical archetypes & patterns of the collective psyche?

It may well be so that in some mysterious way history & legend mingle & merge & certainly as we have said, peoples from across the globe & over many centuries have told stories of a great distant flood in their different unique ways, from the ancient Sumerian account of Gilgamesh inscribed on excavated stone tablets from the Bronze Age, through to the biblical tale of Noah, the ark & the epic inundation told in Genesis.

Such deeply rooted tales speak to us profoundly on a multiplicity of levels
elucidating truths to be pondered and understood and heeded.

Falling from Grace - a storytelling

Now the story tells that from far, far away - maybe even from the stars - maybe even from the distant constellations of the Pleiades’ & Sirius - those bright clusters toward which the pyramids direct their gaze - Beings of Pure Light once came to the earth.

It is said they were over twelve feet tall, that their skin was golden hued and translucent. They had little need of food - spheres of bright light surrounded them - & like Tolkien's elves, they lived for hundreds & hundreds of years.

Highly skilled in poetry and song and in matters of deep learning, they were matriarchal in nature, seeking harmony not power & they had no thought or feeling toward war or competition - and they used their gifts wisely to build great temples and places of learning and beauty.

They are said to have resonated at a high frequency and could not always be apprehended in the third dimensional sphere, again like Tolkien's elves who ofttimes passed through the forest unseen by men & hobbits & dwarves.

They had a great love & understanding of crystals with which they worked to create beautiful temples, as well employing them for healing, when the need arose - and as a major source of power for their cities, all of which were crowned with crystalline power domes & the capital Poseida it is said, had the most beautiful emerald dome whose rays embraced the entire realm.

This was the Golden Age of Atlantis - a hallowed time - and for many thousands of years the people prospered and grew, and their influence spread far beyond their borders to distant lands across the seas. Good relations were made, and trade flourished - but little by little, as they came more & more into their human form, their consciousness slowly devolved onto a denser frequency, and as this happened many previously high beings fell into the realms of duality.

Thereafter they no longer lived for hundreds of years, their need for food & sustenance increased & their priorities shifted away from the pursuit of Beauty toward material gain, toward power and eventually to violence & war.

And those over whom this shadow had fallen sought to subdue their neighbours and to bring them under their control as slaves. And it is said then that the secrets of the sacred crystals were stolen from those who remained true and that they were gradually subverted, eventually being utilised to create terrible weapons that laid waste their enemies lands, terrorised their peoples & brought vast numbers under their dominion.

Some say the corrupted Atlanteans eventually became like Tolkien’s orcs – once fair and pure souls – now withered & warlike & totally estranged from the light.

Plato's Story

The Ancient Greeks too had a version of the story, first come down to us through Plato, who told it in relation to his own pantheon.
*****
Poseidon, Lord of the Ocean long ago fell in love with a mortal girl and together they had many sons. And he made a home for them on a beautiful island and he called it Atlantis & when the sons were grown he divided that land into ten parts and gave each son dominion over one part before returning to his home beneath the waves.

But there was one law he set in stone before he left that forbade them on pain of death - ever to make war with one another. For many years all went well - for you see they were the sons of a god and therefore not fully mortal - but as time passed they forgot themselves - :

“…and when the divine portion began to fade away, … and the human nature got the upper hand, they then, being unable to bear their fortune, behaved unseemly, and to him who had an eye to see grew visibly debased, for they were losing the fairest of their precious gifts; but to those who had no eye to see the true happiness, they appeared glorious and blessed at the very time when they were full of avarice and unrighteous power.”
(Plato, Critias)― Plato,

It was Zeus, god of the gods who first saw what was happening to this once honourable race – and he had gone to Poseidon and told him - and when Poseidon came & saw for himself he wept, for his love for his sons and for the fair isles of Atlantis was great indeed - but they had transgressed the law and Poseidon – though his heart ached - had to uphold it. And so it was that he then stirred up the seas with his great trident – causing huge waves to form and to swirl about the islands – and the sky darkened above and the people cried out amidst the chaos– and the waves grew higher and higher and stronger and stronger – and they engulfed the beautiful islands - destroying all in their wake – and the people were drowned and pulled down into depths of the sea. And thereafter no one knew their story nor of the wonders they had created – save in dreams strange imaginings.

What we see in Poseidon’s dramatic intervention – we see also in other flood stories of antiquity. At this very same moment, when evil has risen to its upmost ascendency, the gods intervene. In Genesis God causes a great wind & storm to stir & rain to fall & floods to submerge the land. It is the same in the Gilgamesh story and in Tolkien’s Downfall of Númenor.

Rare moments indeed – brimming with meaning & significance. Free will is sacred within all these pantheons of course– and yet it seems there are times when humankind goes too far – attracting if you like, the wrathful interventions of the divine – in order maybe - that the great cosmic harmony is not disturbed. Complex notions all and beyond the scope of this short piece yet suffice to say, the tales clearly tell – that there are absolute boundaries that cannot be violated nor gone beyond and that there are cataclysmic consequences for those who attempt to do so.

For such peoples, the story ends abruptly here as they are drowned & pulled down into the depths – maybe to come again to earth one day – to try again, maybe not. Yet for others, those who somehow escape or are miraculously saved from the divine wrath, the great journey continues – and it is their story that we will take up by and by.

Tolkien tells his friend that only after he had written about his dream of the great flood did he ceased to be troubled by it.

I don't think I have had it since I wrote the 'Downfall of Nùmenor.'
Letter to W. H. Auden , 7 June 1955
It still occurs occasionally, though now exorcized by writing about it. It always ends by surrender....
Letter to Christopher Bretherton, 16 July 1964

Sometimes the unconscious speaks to us of matters of a purely personal nature - yet sometimes - and there is a wealth of evidence to support this - it speaks of matters of immense collective significance. Tolkien's dream seems clearly along these lines. And In setting it down for us - in giving it form, in the shape of the of Nùmenor tale, he has re-presented it - in his own unique way - for our collective attention.

All these tales - ancient & modern alike - were conceived & set down long before our current climate crisis came to the fore and yet seem as pertinent now as they ever were. It is salutary to consider that civilisations do not last forever but rise & fall in their cycles. Pondering the fragments of these long-lost tales can be most enlightening - for above all they show us the moral conditions that may bring about the fall of civilisations - and these things are crucial for all of us.

much love
Anne Maria
x x x

The Arc of Salvation
William Blake

Hold the Light/blog published regularly during the Crisis @
www.annemariaclarke.net/blog
https://twitter.com/MariaClarke

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Hold the Light: Wisdom from Myth, Legend & Fairy-tale for Times of Uncertainty & Transformation: 25: Tolkien: The Music of the Ainulindalë

4/20/2020

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“In the Deeps of Time and in the midst of innumerable stars”
J.R.R. Tolkien: The Silmilrillion

All mythologies begin with a creation story of sorts and the tale of the making of Arda, home of elves & men is set forth for us at the start of Tolkien's Silmarillion.

Difficult to know and difficult to describe - The Silmarillion is an acquired taste - like dark chocolate, I heard someone say. Yet it is Tolkien’s great work - a book, though unfinished and published posthumously by his son Christopher in 1977 - that he regarded as the true source and font from which everything he subsequently wrote issued forth.

I do not remember a time when I was not building it...
Tolkien:Letter 131 to Milton Waldman (~1951)

...he tells Waldman in the letter re-printed at the start of the book.

Before ever he conceived of The Hobbit & The Lord of the Rings – when he was just a young Oxford student – alone in the trenches of World War 1 – the war to end all wars it was said – & by whose end he would lose all but one of his friends – he had set his pen to paper and dreamed up the most extra- ordinary creation story & companion of tales, complete with their own languages, that he had started as a child.

The intensity of his creative experiences during in those first years have elsewhere been likened to those described by Carl Jung in his Red Book. Both men it seems lived life close to an edge for a few years - closer we might say and deeper than most of us ever come to the extremes of human experience without toppling over - and both confess to spending the rest of their lives attempting to integrate the flood of material encountered at that time.

Tolkien reveals to us throughout the vast legendarium that subsequently came about, a profound understanding of beauty, goodness, evil & human pride & of how such weakness can ultimately lead to tyranny & destruction.

In studying his own creation myth we can see clearly the introduction of the opposing tendencies of light of darkness. We see how they are woven into the very fabric of creation from the start - setting the scene for the aeons of struggles ahead that eventually culminate in the victory at the end of Lord of the Rings.

“ In the beginning there was Eru, the One,
who in Arda is called Ilúvatar;
and he made first the Ainur, the Holy Ones,
that were the offspring of his thought,
and they were with him before aught else was made.
And he spoke to them, propounding to them themes of music; and they sang before him, and he was glad.”
J.R.R.Tolkien: The Silmirillion

Well for a long time the Ainur sang by themselves - each alone - finding their own voice and afterwards they listened to one another so that they might understand each others part - and Ilúvatar was greatly pleased.

Then he said to them: 'Of the theme that I have declared to you, I will now that ye make in harmony together a Great Music. And since I have kindled you with the Flame Imperishable, ye shall show forth your powers in adorning this theme, each with his own thoughts and devices, if he will. But I will sit and hearken, and be glad that through you great beauty has been wakened into song.'

And they began to sing as instructed and to create a beautiful music, singing together in both unison & harmony and Ilúvatar was once more pleased.

But then Malkor, who was the greatest of the Ainur began to sing more loudly than the others and he introduced the first discord into the song - and others of the Ainur were shocked & dismayed. Some them ceased to sing at all whilst some found themselves drawn into the dissonance introduced. And for a while Ilúvatar harkened, the story tells, before bringing the music to a halt.

He then created a second theme and it was more beautiful and more powerful than before - but again Malkor rose up in his defiance and once more overpowered many more of those that had held faith with Ilúvatar's creation - & the music staggered and faultered in its progression, falling into inevitable disharmony & choas.
Then Ilúvatar rose up his right hand - and a third theme commenced amidst the confusion.
It began quietly we are told and it was,

... soft and sweet, a mere rippling of gentle sounds in delicate melodies; but it could not be quenched, and it took to itself power and profundity. And it seemed at last that there were two musics progressing at one time before the seat of Iluvatar, and they were utterly at variance.
The one was deep and wide and beautiful, but slow and blended with an immeasurable sorrow, from which its beauty chiefly came....whilst the other... was loud, and vain, and endlessly repeated; and it had little harmony, but rather a clamorous unison as of many trumpets braying upon a few notes.

What an extra-ordinary image – this endless braying of trumpets on just a few notes. Loud and brash – like people one sometimes meets – who somehow manage to subvert and re-direct everything and everyone toward serving their own narrow ends. And this is never pleasurable. Such people have no finesse. Bullies in a way – yet often with no consciousness of their dis-empowering effects. On the contrary – they are often leaders, dangerous leaders – (or comical - if enough people dare to call them out like in the tale of the Emperor's New Clothes.) They are full of great self– belief – used to a lifetime of filling all the available space – so to speak – of overshadowing - not actually realising the great potential of others or worse still secretly wishing to supress it as we see here.

Tolkien gives luminous insight into this whole dynamic – that we all see playing out in groups from playground to board room. The Ainur when they begin seem only aware of their own part, their expression of the theme propounded by Ilúvatar. They only gradually become aware of other strains - and through deep listening and profound contemplation come to understand and to sing in unison, and in beautiful harmony too.

This ability to really listen – to sense another energetically, deeply – is the essence of a good choir and a characteristic of fully functioning groups wherever they might be. A successful leader, like Tolkien’s Aragorn is highly attuned to his companions – high & low. Not so with Malkor, for his will is to dominate & undue, to subvert Ilúvatar’s creation and set it to his own ends.

He is an extreme manifestation of this tendency to subvert & out-shine. He is the most powerful of the Ainur Tolkien tells, but he is flawed from the get go and has often we hear, roamed the void – impatient with Ilúvatar, seeking the Flame Imperishable for himself – the very flame Ilúvatar wields in order to create life.

Ultimately however Malkor is no match for Ilúvatar and as this third theme progresses Malkor's most powerful, violent & triumphant notes are overtaken by Ilúvatar’s and woven into his own beautiful music so that it is abundantly clear that no music may progress to it's conclusion that does not have its source in the light. And finally then Ilúvatar ...

raised up both his hands, and in one chord, deeper than the Abyss, higher than the Firmament, piercing as the light of the eye of Ilúvatar, the Music ceased.

What none of them know then - even Malkor, is that their music has
has gone out into the void and that a world has been created from it.

About ten years ago I had the most illuminating dream. I was being shown around a hospital, far in the future – the wards were arranged as normal in oblong shaped rooms with rows of beds of either side. Someone asked me to follow and led me to a narrow passage-way – not visible to the naked eye that ran behind the rows of beds – and there I was shown the underlying psychological & spiritual conditions that underpinned each person’s illness. The healing protocol – I was told - was simply vibration.

I was then taken back to the ward where I saw that a small frequency box had been placed in the centre emitting sound waves. Peoples energetic fields were being re -calibrated. They were being brought back into harmony – into health.

Ancient civilisations are said to have practiced sound healing and today many alternative health practitioners offer therapy along these lines. Not as powerful most probably as the curative interventions being realised in the dream – but who knows.

Though not at all recognised by conventional medicine, the power of vibration is undeniable. A few years later I went to see Masuri Emoto, the Japanese scientist who famously conducted experiments on the effects of thought on matter – and on water in particular. His photographs of frozen water crystals subjected to a range of postive & negative programming are incredible & highly significant too given the body is mainly composed of water.

Beyond the realm of the mainstream of course - like those who say we are entering a new phase of awakening – a raising of our planetary vibration. Babies being born are said to have slightly more activated DNA (making use of more of what conventional science calls our junk DNA.) Seems odd though doesn’t it – almost re-enactments of Tolkien’s tale – with this new elevation of consciousness, of vibrational frequency – on the one side, whilst on the other – the darker forces of 5G and its possible negative electro -magnetic frequencies being bombarded through our bodies.

Alternative US health professionals with huge followings have come out straight and pointed out the worrying correlation between the first big roll out of 5G in areas like Lombardy in Italy, New York City and Wuhan of course – which have been the worst hit. There is said to be a clear historical correlation too between points of increased global electrification over the last hundred years and the outbreak of health pandemics. Interesting to ponder!

Nikola Tesla famously said,

“If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency and vibration.”

All form we are told proceeds from the void - from the unity or singularity of the first dimension - into vibration – waves of potential - of consciousness - that mysteriously morph into particles of matter as we see demonstrated in the realm of quantum physics - a whole new paradigm - with a non - materialist base - gradually emerging into our understanding and yet clearly understood by our predecessors in the ancient world.

It is said that in order to know himself God moved beyond oneness - and brought the universe into being. In sacred geometry this first movement beyond the incorporeal realm of infinite potentiality is represented as the progression from the single point or dot at the core of the circle outwards to the creation of its radius and onward through a sequence of increasingly complex tessellations and magnifications.

This first geometric progression however is the most significant - for in drawing a circle around itself - spirit it seems - reaches out into the third dimensional world in its first move toward becoming matter.

As Lao Tzu explained:

The Tao begot one. One begot two. Two begot three. And three begot
Ten Thousand Things.

Passage: Anne Maria Clarke: Heavenly Creations

The utterance of the OM, the mystic syllable and most sacred mantra in Hinduism and Tibetan Buddhism is said to carry the life force of prana
And of course, the great creation myth of the bible begins thus,

In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God.

What Tolkien would have made of such things it is impossible to tell yet we are of course free to draw the correspondences. He was a devout catholic of course; and he was a great mythographer too, perhaps more aware than any of us of the deep nature of such matters.

Whatever the case may be, it seems that whilst residing on this plain of duality, as Tolkien hints at the end of his Lord of the Rings – there will always be a battle between opposing forces – opposing themes in our collective song.

Only when such polarity is transcended will our ultimate Happy Ending finally be achieved and only then will the music of creation be sung as first intended.

Water carries the deepest memory of the uncorrupted song, he writes - the elves always knew this & longed for it & wove fragments of its memory into their singing - but only at the end of days, Tolkien tells us will ...

...the themes of Ilúvatar .. be played aright, and take Being in the moment of their utterance, for all shall then understand fully his intent in their part, and each shall know the comprehension of each, and Ilúvatar shall give to their thoughts the secret fire, being well pleased.
Tolkien: Silmarillion

Much love
Anne Maria
x x x

Hold the Light/blog published regularly during the Crisis @
www.annemariaclarke.net/blog
Tolkien's Legendarium Transpersonal Weekend @ Rock Bank UK has been postponed until Spring 2021
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Hold the Light: Wisdom from Myth, Legend & Fairy tale: 24: Sacred Space

4/16/2020

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"Everything is held together with stories. That is all that is holding us together, stories and compassion."
- Barry Lopez

There are great stories, mythic stories, epic legends and tales of much renown – the ones we all know, share and partake of – yet there are personal stories too – of our own lives- our own joys and sorrows – often these mirror the greater stories, like that of Nature herself and her eternal cycles.

We live next to a wood and this morning I got up really early, opened the window, put an extra blanket on our bed & listened to the Spring Dawn Chorus. Just beyond the house, at the side of the main garden, there’s a circle of young oaks. Ten years ago, when we first came here they were all terribly overgrown and choked up with brambles. My husband has long since cleared the area and has been looking after them ever since. He has sown grass seed and put an old rickety garden bench there that used to be in the main garden and arranged a row of semi - broken plant pots containing all the things that are out of season or that need his special attention as it were - his plant hospital. There are bird feeders too and an old wood stove.

No one ever goes there, and he’s claimed it in a way - to share with all the wildlife - pheasants, hedgehogs, squirrels, muntjak deer and countless visiting birds. It’s his sanctuary. His retreat. His sacred space. Every night after work he spends time there, even in the depths of winter – in the pitch dark or moonlight. Now he is home for the foreseeable because of the virus he is there so much more & loving it.

There must be so many men right now and women too, those privileged with gardens and outdoor space - but other types as well who have cherished indoor pursuits who - in spite of the threat - have truly returned to their elements, doing what they really want to do - even if that's just spending precious time with children and other loved ones after years of hard graft in various occupations and dog eat dog competitive environments, high or low. To these people - the lockdown is a gift.

Many years ago, when we first met – I asked my husband what he would really like to do – if there were no constraints – and he said he would like to look after a wood. Against all the odds and without really looking or even trying to create such a thing - that dream came true…..unexpectedly & straight out of the blue as it were.

Last week we planted a apple tree sapling - thinking ahead to possible future lockdown scenarios - maybe even long after we are gone. Or for a different world that might just follow after this great adventure we are all sharing right now. It was just a little stick of a thing when we brought it home but now has several beautiful white/pink blossoms. Nature is thriving right as we have repeatedly observed and alongside the tragic count of those who have died comes new evidence of the incredible beneficial effects on pollution levels. Kindness too is at an all-time high as are acts of great heroism. None of us know how this story will unfold and how our parts will one day be told by generations looking back.

Sipping my tea in the wood I wondered, as millions across the world most probably are, about what kind of a world we might create as a result of this shared adventure. Will we return to a more local way of life - cutting back on travel - maybe growing more of our own food wherever possible. Will our values, priorities and consciousness be changed as always happens to storybook heroes and heroines of course - or will we just go back to how it was before?

John O Donohue, the Irish mystic says maybe, we have all....

“..... travelled too fast over false ground;
and maybe
"the soul has come to take us back."
Jonh O Donohue

To thrust us all unbidden into this great retreat from our show must go on – and business as usual mentality and - unless we are key workers - grounded us until further notice.

There are no accidents in the universe, the wise ones have always told us – everything happens for a reason – its just we can’t quite fully see what that might be. Yet it seems pretty clear that for many – it’s a time to reassess – to go within – to do the things we always wanted to do – and turn a bad thing inside out and upside down & thrive like never before - to find our sacred spaces – wherever they might be – and when we do, maybe we will find part of ourselves already there waiting. As Campbell says,

Your sacred place is where you find yourself again & again – and if you find it – use it, take advantage of it, something will happen.
Joseph Campbell

Much Love
Anne Maria
x x x

Hold the Light/blog published regularly during the Crisis @
www.annemariaclarke.net/blog

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Hold the Light: Wisdom from Myth, Legend & Fairy-tale for Times of Uncertainty & Transformation: 23: Easter Meditations: Resurrection of the Light

4/12/2020

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Giotto di Bondone, Resurrection 1304-06, fresco, Cappella Scrovegni, Padua
(Resurrectio: Noli me tangere )

And, behold, there was a great earthquake: for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it.
His countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow:
And for fear of him the keepers did shake, and became as dead men.
And the angel answered and said unto the women, Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified.
He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay.
And go quickly, and tell his disciples that he is risen from the dead; and, behold, he goeth before you into Galilee; there shall ye see him: lo, I have told you. And they departed quickly from the sepulchre with fear and great joy; and did run to bring his disciples word.
And as they went to tell his disciples, behold, Jesus met them, saying, All hail. And they came and held him by the feet, and worshipped him.

Mathew 28: King James Version

In all the great myths there is this motif of healing and renewal. For all reflect the same deeply rooted pattern that we see recurring endlessly throughout the cosmos and within nature herself. A sacred cycle of birth, death and renewal.

When Christ defies death and rises from his tomb he personifies this great truth and shifts it dimensionally – elevates it to a higher octave – he is born again - yet not as before – he is become luminous – a light body – here and not here, like Giotto's Angels depicted coming momentarily into form - into view - yet incorporeal in their essence.

His wounds are visible & yet he is transcendent of them – which is the hope of course for all of us in dying and moving beyond the material world.
There are such beautiful stories about Alzheimer sufferers becoming completely lucid in the last moments before death – their sufferings connected only to their bodies it seems– never to their souls.

The resurrection, is like the Mass in a way, like baptism, confirmation, marriage, and the taking of holy vows - sacraments – all reflecting transitions – from one part of life to another – yet also – potentially - transitions from one state of consciousness to another - they are mysteries – to be pondered yet never fully known.
Times were they were more directly referred to as initiations – a language closer to the ancient world and to myth.
When the hero or heroine return from the underworld – they return from periods of deep initiation – and they come back utterly changed.
The point of the adventure, the trail, the test – the falling away of the known world – and all the rest is precisely this.
Oftentimes it feels like part of us is dying – and in many ways this is true. For the hard truth is - we must die in order to be renewed. This is the essence of transformation – of shifting energetically to a new consciousness.

It is said that after his crucifixion Jesus descended into the underworld and that there was a great harrowing of Hell - whilst on earth darkness descended.

Symbolically this corresponds to the phase of the Dark Moon that the ancients, called - The Land of No return – for at such times no one knew if the light would ever return.
And so it must have been especially for Mary his Mother and Mary Magdalene and all those who loved Jesus.
And so it had been for Demeter, whose daughter was lost beneath the world – and countless other grieving goddesses whose pitiful cries of lament for their lost loved ones came to populate mythology from the third millennium BC. They are known as the Sorrowing Mothers of the world.

In dying & being re-born Christ and his beloveds – his enemies too - partake of this ancient mystery – rooted as we have seen in nature herself – in the psyche and in the sacred cycle of life.

It is a story created and re-created across time – since people first used language. And always it is told that the great ones will return to the earth at Springtime, when the crescent moon is in the sky - mirroring the re-birth & renewal of the land after the darkness of winter.

I slept, sings Solomon’s bride,
but my heart is awakened.
Listen; it is the voice of my lover calling:
The winter is past & the rain is over & gone;
Flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come,
And the voice of the turtle dove is heard in our land.
Song of Solomon 2:10-12

This is when Jesus returns to us - all but briefly – with all the symbolism of spring and of love. He comes back to show us we are told – the crown of his teaching – the mystical element and reality of the soul in its eternity and perfection.

"I am the way," he tells us – not just to adore and to worship - but also to follow and to ultimately become!

The words are open to interpretation of course and can be read on several levels, from the literal to the metaphysical - and all are true - like any truly great story, light streams from it in every direction.

So we come to the end of our meditations and to the end of the Easter story…one so beautifully and poignantly portrayed for us in Giotto di Bondone’s exquisite fresco cycle. Some of these works, like the Lamentation - featured on Good Friday – are said to be the greatest paintings of the Middle Ages.

The sacred art of the Byzantine period which preceded Giotto had a solemn and holy beauty of its own, but was two-dimensional, immobile, and largely symbolic, writes Madeleine Stebbins.
Giotto initiated a more natural, emotionally expressive human style, which was — it seems — inspired by the spirituality of St. Francis of Assisi, Giotto being a third order Franciscan himself.
Looking at the Lamentation: Madeleine Stebbins

St.Francis had brought a whole new Humanism to the interpretation of the Gospels which greatly impacted Giotto who carried it over and rendered it so tenderly in these works.

Over the week they have seeped into my soul. Last night I dreamed I was resting within the paintings – in all the blue – the blue of Heaven as we said at the start – and I was still and quiet and peaceful. When I woke I tried to think which painting it was – but couldn’t recall - yet the feeling of deep peace & of the blue remained.

Buona Pasque as they say in Italy,
Happy Easter
much love
Anne Maria
x x x

Hold the Light/blog published regularly during the Crisis @
www.annemariaclarke.net/blog

These meditations for Easter Week are based on the exquisite 14th century fresco cycle by Giotto di Bondone, from The Scrovegni Chapel, Padua (Italy), that so beautifully elucidate the story as it unfolds.

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Hold the Light: Wisdom from Myth, Legend & Fairy-tale for Times of Uncertainty & Transformation:22: Easter Meditations: The Day of Agony

4/10/2020

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The Crucifixtion of Christ by Giotto di Bondone in the Scrovegni Chapel, c. 1305
(La Crocifissione di Cristo)

Then delivered he him therefore unto them to be crucified. And they took Jesus, and led him away.
And he bearing his cross went forth into a place called the place of a skull, which is called in the Hebrew Golgotha:
Where they crucified him, and two other with him, on either side one, and Jesus in the midst.
And Pilate wrote a title, and put it on the cross. And the writing was, JESUS OF NAZARETH THE KING OF THE JEWS.
John.19 King James Version

After his arrest Jesus had been brought before Caiaphas, the Jewish high priest and late into the night - against all legal protocol – he had been tried, found guilty and sent onward to Pontius Pilate for sentencing. Deep down Pilot knew Jesus was innocent. He understood he was deemed a threat to the priest-hood and this is why they had orchestrated the case against him.

Jesus had told them openly when asked,

“Are you the Messiah, the Son of the living God?”
“You have said so, he replies.
But I tell you, hereafter you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of the Power and coming on the clouds of Heaven.”
Matthew 26:64

Giotto: Scrovegni Chapel, Padua: Christ before Caiaphas
(Cristo davanti a Caifa 1304)

And the high priest had torn his robes then and on charges of blasphemy sent Jesus to Pilate for sentencing. And when Pilate asked again the same question.

Are you the King of the Jews? he replied,
“You say that I am a king.”

Pilate pressed him to say more and asked Jesus if he was aware he had power to either free or condemn him. And Jesus knew yet remained silent and Pilate greatly marvelled at his composure.

Now, as well you know, there was a tradition at the time of Passover for certain criminals to be released. A mocking crowd had followed Jesus from the house of Caiaphas - a crowd stirred by the priesthood in their disdain. This crowd now waited and watched beyond the walls of Herod’s House where Pilate resided over the festival. And they were a crowd totally unlike that which had welcomed Jesus to Jerusalem just a few days before - and they were baying for his conviction - and secretly amongst them had been Peter – whose story we shall take up briefly here – for as they had waited for news near the house of Caiaphas, a girl had recognised him and come forth and said.

"This man also was with him."
But he denied it, saying,
“Woman, I do not know him.”
Then another recognised him & called her friends and said aloud –
"This is one of them.
He was with Jesus...,"
Matthew 26:69-75 NEW King James Version

and again he denied it was so. And they insisted and he swore he did not know him and invoked God to be his judge. And the cock crowed and each time he remembered Jesus saying he would deny him – and he wept – knowing his life was saved but his soul was lost, and he went away then but the crowd, now baying for blood went on.

Now, there was a criminal named Barabbas who was then brought forward and Pilate, having found no fault with Jesus cried out,

Who shall I give you today?,
“Whom do you want me to release to you?
Barabbas, or Jesus who is called Christ?”
Mathew 27: 17 King James Version

And the crowd cried,
Barabbas! Barabbas!
“What then shall I do with Jesus?” asked Pilate,
What evil hath he done?
Crucify him! Crucify him!
Matthew 27:23 King James Version

They called back as one voice.

When Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a tumult was made, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it.
Then answered all the people, and said, His blood be on us, and on our children.
Mathew 27: 24 King James Version

Barabbas was then released and Jesus was given over to be scourged & stripped of his clothes & driven onward to Calvary bearing his cross. A crown of twisted thorns was thrust upon his head, and all along the way he was mocked and jeered and spat at as a common criminal might be.

And the heavy cross was placed upon his shoulder and a mock purple cloak. And the people - fickle as they were - and so permeable to corruption cried out and laughed and spat as he staggered on.

GIOTTO: ROAD TO CALVARY. /nFresco detail from Scrovegni Chapel, 1304-06
(Andata al Calvario)

And when at last while the day was still young he came to the place where the story was to end, and he was mounted and nailed upon his cross - and it was lifted up midst two common robbers. And soldiers kept guard throughout - for he was to be an example - and they threw lots for his clothing.
Then at noontide - a great shadow fell suddenly over the earth and the Veil of the Temple was torn in two. And one of the centurions there beside him cried,
Truly this is the son of god!

And Jesus called out for the last time -

My god! My god! Why hast thou forsaken me?

And calling so, he drew his last breath and died.

Joseph of Arimathea then went to Pilate to ask if he might take the body for burial and he agreed, and then Jesus was lifted down from his cross and placed into the arms of Mary the Mother and Mary Magdalene.

And all wept in their sorrow - even the angels in the skies above.

Lamentation by Giotto di Bondone in the Scrovegni Chapel, c. 1305c.1306
Lamento (Il Compianto di Cristo)

Much Love
Anne Maria
x x x

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Hold the Light: Wisdom from Myth, Legend & Fairy-tale: 21: The Kiss of Judas

4/9/2020

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Kiss of Judas (1304–06), fresco by Giotto, Scrovegni Chapel, Padua, Italy

And immediately, while he yet spake, cometh Judas, one of the twelve, and with him a great multitude with swords and staves, from the chief priests and the scribes and the elders.
And he that betrayed him had given them a token, saying, Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he; take him, and lead [him] away safely.
And as soon as he was come, he goeth straightway to him, and saith, Master, master; and kissed him.
Mark 14:43 - 14:45

And so it begins! How far we have come - in this moment of betrayal, so starkly portrayed by Giotto! How far in just a few short days. Then Jesus was welcomed and great crowds gathered - and palm leaves were laid at his feet and the people sang Hosanna's.

Now the crowds come again - but this time with swords instead palm stems! How quickly things can change! In our own lives too of course. Where once there was fellowship, kinship and love - now there is hatred, suspicion & fear. Bonds are broken - brothers & sisters are enemies - even unto death.

Yet how had this come to be – how had this great devotee of Jesus turned away from him? We can speculate that the first grumblings of discontent began back in Bethany when Mary poured an expensive alabaster jar of oil over Jesus’ head (and several there present including Judas ( who looked after the money) were appalled at her extravagance. It was Passover, a time when everyone was encouraged to give alms to the poor – some of Christ’s disciples, including Judas are indignant at the extravagance and admonish the woman; but Jesus defends her saying;

Let her alone: against the day of my burying hath she kept this. For the poor always ye have with you; but me ye have not always.
John 12:6

But Judas especially was not reassured by these words and began to doubt.
On the night of the Last Supper Jesus speaks openly of the betrayal soon to come - for he knows the secrets of all their hearts. It is the moment tenderly depicted in Giotto’s fresco of The Last Supper - where we see Simon Peter leaning upon Jesus’ chest.

“Amen, amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me.” The disciples looked at one another, at a loss as to whom he meant. One of his disciples, the one whom Jesus loved, was reclining at Jesus’ side. So Simon Peter nodded to him to find out whom he meant. He leaned back against Jesus’ chest and said to him, “Master, who is it?” Jesus answered, “It is the one to whom I hand the morsel after I have dipped it.” So he dipped the morsel and took it and handed it to Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot. After Judas took the morsel, Satan entered him. So Jesus said to him, “What you are going to do, do quickly.”

John 13:21-27

Judas leaves the supper early and later, knowing the hour is close, Jesus leads his disciples to the Mount of Olives & to the garden of Gethsemane & there he bids them wait for him and keep watch; saying...

My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me. And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.

Matthew 26:36-46 King James Version (KJV)

And three times he went from them in this way - & three times he returned & found them sleeping. And he rouses & rebukes them - each time repeating his words - until finally - on the third occasion he rouses them saying,

Behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners.Rise, let us be going: behold, he is at hand that doth betray me.

Matthew 26:36-46 King James Version (KJV)

Then Judas comes as we see in these paintings. And the deed is done and Jesus is taken and all the disciples scatter and fall away as predicted - each with their conscience to bear. And no one knows for sure what they are thinking - for this part of the story is not told - yet it's not difficult to imagine is it?

How did it come to this? How have I found myself here - in this utterly untenable predicament? Why! Oh Why did I act as I did?

We know of course that Judas had lost trust in Jesus over the incident with the oil. He couldn't see how it was justified and was not convinced by what Jesus told him. It is likely he felt Jesus was contradicting himself and so he judged him! The rest we already know!

Betrayals are so often based on judgements such as these that we have no right to make, for in doing so we put ourselves above the other - we create a narrative about them where there is no way for them to come out right. We are righteous, indignant & justified in whatever action we then choose to pursue.

But so frequently - as is so glaringly obvious here - Judas was simply unaware of the greater picture - the greater purpose and meaning behind Jesus' acceptance of Mary's generosity.

In gazing at Giotto's painting - I am struck by the expression of both men in their embrace. At first glance it appears as any other embrace might - between two close friends. It is intimate. And thinking on, about betrayals in general and in my own experience - such acts are indeed intimate but not in a good way. They are violations, infringements and invasions of intimacy - which is why they hurt so much more when perpetrated by those we should be able to trust.

In Dante’s Inferno the punishments ascribed to those who betray those with whom they share a close bond are always more severe. And Judas did share such a bond, deeper some say, than any of the other disciples. He understood Christ’s purpose profoundly.

All the more shocking then until we remember – as we must – for this in a sense is one of the great enigmas of the story, is that both men are on this night struggling to reconcile what is highest – what transcends them – their divine purpose –- with the mortal, flesh and blood aspects of themselves- which are by definition, susceptible to doubt, to frailty and forgetfulness.
And on this night of agony, it is these blinkered aspects that momentarily win out and most spectacularly for Judas. Jesus faulters for a brief span in the garden but Judas in his betrayal, falls.

But, at the higher octave if you like, the level at which sacred contracts are made in heaven, there was no betrayal, and no sin was ultimately committed – Judas, the Gnostics say, was not a traitor; he was the one chosen to fulfil the destiny of Jesus, giving him as a sacrifice for all human kind.
All was divinely ordered and understood – but at the level of two mortal friends, - it all must have hurt like hell!

This Gnostic dimension to the story has long since been edited from the orthodox account of Holy Week and consigned the book Against all Heresies written in180 A.D by Irenaeus of Lyons who was one of the men responsible for the selection of texts entered into the Bible.

Yet the enigma persists for it is archetypally constellated in the soul some say. In the end it is for each of us to ponder. Though I can’t help wondering what a different world we would have, if we allowed ourselves, even for a moment, to consider that both parts of the story might be true.

Much Love
Anne Maria
x x x

Hold the Light/blog
www.annemariaclarke.net/blog

A series of meditations for Easter Week inspired by the exquisite 14th century fresco cycle by Giotto di Bondone, from The Scrovegni Chapel, Padua (Italy), that so beautifully elucidate the story as it unfolds.

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Hold the Light: Wisdom from Myth, Legend & Fairy - tale: Easter Meditations: 20: The Last Supper

4/8/2020

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"The Last Supper", 1304, by Giotto di Bondone (1270-1337)

Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of hosts. Heaven and earth are full of your glory. Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest.

L'Ultima Cena as Italians say – the Last Supper – coinciding as it does with the great Passover meal, celebrated by Jews the world over in memory of their flight to freedom from Egypt. Jesus entered Jerusalem on the very same day as the Jews chose their sacrificial lambs – took them into their homes and kept them as part of their families until they were slaughtered in readiness for the Passover Feast. It would turn out that Jesus too, mirroring the progression of the great festival - is himself taken into the family of the city and later crucified on the very same day as the sacrificial lambs.

When the night of the Passover came – he took a room and gathered together with his disiples for the traditional meal. And before they ate he washed their feet, saying,

“What I’m about to tell you is true. A servant is not more important than his master. And a messenger is not more important than the one who sends him. Now you know these things. So you will be blessed if you do them. –
John 13:12b-17

Jesus washing the feet of the Disciples 1304-3106, by Giotto di Bondone

And reclining together then before the meal he then told them that some of them would later betray him and they all vigorously denied they ever would.

Tomorrow - we will see - when we look at Giotto’s powerful fresco- The Kiss of Judas – the truth we already know. In a few hours’ time he will be betrayed and events will gather pace but for now there is a moment of precious peace – a last moment to be together and share their final meal. Taking the bread in his hands then & giving thanks;

He said the blessing,
broke the bread and gave it to his disciples, saying:

TAKE THIS, ALL OF YOU, AND EAT OF IT,
FOR THIS IS MY BODY,
WHICH WILL BE GIVEN UP FOR YOU.

In a similar way, when supper was ended,
he took the chalice, and, giving you thanks, he said the blessing,
and gave the chalice to his disciples, saying:

TAKE THIS, ALL OF YOU, AND DRINK FROM IT,
FOR THIS IS THE CHALICE OF MY BLOOD,
THE BLOOD OF THE NEW AND ETERNAL COVENANT,
WHICH WILL BE POURED OUT FOR YOU AND FOR MANY
FOR THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS.

DO THIS IN MEMORY OF ME.

The mystery of faith.

Some say this is a mystery that even the angels cannot comprehend - and ultimately this is what it will always be. It would be utterly facetious to offer any definitive words - for this is a subject worthy of a lifetime’s contemplation and even then ….

What we can say is that it’s a story wholeheartedly entered into still by millions across the world each day, each week - as if it were truly real - like stepping through a portal if you like - into a realm out of time - not part of the everyday world - but always close by - accessed through the ceremony and the ritual of the Mass.

For others it is simply a re - enactment in gracious memory. Yet whatever it is and at whatever level remembered, it pays homage to Jesus and to this moment in time.

Joseph Campbell has said, the Mass is "a metaphor open to transcendence," and as such it is capable of miraculous effects in transforming not only bread and wine, but the human personality as well.

The Gnosis of The Eucharis: by Stephan A. Hoeller

And this is indeed part of the Mystery - this idea that in approaching the numinous we might re-connect - if only for a moment - with that part of ourselves - the sacred within - from which, as souls incarnated upon the earth we are estranged. The desire to return is hard- wired within us all – and this explains the power of ritual.

Of course there are valid objections to such seeming archaic practice.

It has often been accompanied by blind superstition. Still, it must be remembered that a lack of consciousness will regularly turn meaningful and transformative practices into superstitious ones.

The Gnosis of The Eucharist: by Stephan A. Hoeller

And the fact remains we are forever searching for the lost parts of ourselves, the parts hidden and covered over by the realities of the mundane world.

You know it never ceases to amaze me each Sunday at the monastery where I attend Mass – just how many people are there at 8am in the morning, after a hard week at work and I often wonder what draws them. There are many explanations I know, and yet I like to imagine – and in many ways I know it to be true – that they are as moths drawn to the flame – the irresistible flame - the flame imperishable - as Tolkien called it - and to get that little bit closer,

… to the secret that blazes forth at the centre of the mystery.
Myths may bring us nearer, magic may illuminate, philosophy may elucidate, but the mystery remains, as it must, for it is in us and we are in it.

The Gnosis of The Eucharist: by Stephan A. Hoeller

Much Love
Anne Maria Clarke
x x x

These meditations for Easter Week are based on the exquisite 14th century fresco cycle by Giotto di Bondone, from The Scrovegni Chapel, Padua (Italy), that so beautifully elucidate the story as it unfolds.

Hold the Light/blog published regularly during the Crisis @
www.annemariaclarke.net/blog

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Hold the Light: Wisdom from Myth, Legend & Fairy tale 19: Easter Meditations - Expulsion of the Money - changers from the Temple

4/7/2020

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Expulsion of the Money-changers from the Temple (fresco, detail), Giotto, c. 1305, in Scrovegni Chapel, Padua, Italy

And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the money changers, and the seats of them that sold doves, And said unto them, It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves.— Matthew 21:12–13

Yesterday we looked at the lovely painting by Giotto depicting the entry of Christ into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and the promise of elevated consciousness those images symbolise for us all.

Today and throughout the week I would like to continue these Easter Meditations, each time featuring one of the Frescos from the famous 14th century cycle by Giotto di Bondone, from The Scrovegni Chapel, Padua (Italy), that so beautifully elucidate the story as it unfolds.

These were the days before the vast majority could read of course- so such paintings would have been the main way people had of understanding and contemplating the story. Which is why churches were full of them and still are of course, in catholic countries.

It is a story that promises Rebirth for all & like all great tales - it's not just a story - it’s a teaching - a deep teaching, to be understood on multiple levels. Light comes streaming from it for our illumination. It is a tale - both exclusive to and transcendent of it's own time.

In this one week - this one week preceding Christ’s Crucifixion - we will see the entirety of possible responses and reactions to the idea of an approaching light - to the notion of utter renewal and purification of our souls.

The story is timely - as it is always timely of course - yet now - at this moment in 2020 - at the end of the world as we know it - of great change - the story sings!!!

We can already see as the people of Jerusalem saw - once upon a time - that things could go in a certain way - a good way - toward a renewed world with renewed values - but also that forces of darkness or just plain ignorance may very well refuse to contemplate a new beginning and hold on steadfastly to what they have - what they know - to what benefits them - even at the risk of harming others, harming nature and destabilising the whole. Still they want to go on - pursuing an outmoded agenda - an outmoded paradigm - no matter the cost. As it is today - so it was then.

The symbolism of Giotto’s fresco is obvious in so many ways - it speaks for itself, which is what it’s supposed to do. What it then stimulates in us is the really important part - the point as it were.

And going forward, toward the notion of an evolved consciousness - the promise of the Easter Story - and of these times - we have to ask some hard questions of ourselves. Just how far we are prepared to go with the monetarisation of our lives - and - are there going to be any Sacred Places left by the time we are done?

Jesus, in his act of driving the money-exchangers away is re-sacralising the temple – re-mystifying it and bringing it back into the spiritual domain.
It’s a purification, a cleansing, a marking out of territory if you like.
It’s saying - this is sacred space.

Times were when the whole world was sacred - every living thing - nature herself. Christ is showing us how we might return to this understanding - this state of being - and he begins with the temple - the one place we all must preserve – and keep holy in ourselves - free from everything mundane and everything worldly - for these are the places where we can connect - through prayer, through ritual and meditation - to something far greater than ourselves - to the eternal light that will guide us to create a new and transformed world.

Much Love
Anne Maria
x x x

Hold the Light/blog published regularly @
www.annemariaclarke.net/blog

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Hold the Light: Wisdom from Myth, Legend & Fairy-tale for Times of Uncertainty & Transformation18: Easter Week: Palm Sunday

4/5/2020

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Giotto, Christ entering Jerusalem, Arena Chapel, 1305-6, Padua; Italy

Matthew 21
And a very great multitude spread their garments in the way; others cut down branches from the trees, and strawed them in the way.

And the multitudes that went before, and that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna to the son of David: Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest.

Today marks the beginning of Easter Week in the Christian world - it is a time of profound meditation & reflection upon some of the great mysteries of the faith. Yet whether we are Christian or not the story of Easter will resonate for all. Over the next week I would like to explore these mysteries further.
We begin here with the beautiful pre- renaissance painting created by Giotto depicting Christ’s entry into Jerusalem. There are numerous paintings of this event yet Giotto’s is particularly lovely - featuring the prized blue pigment - the colour of heaven, as some say, made from the Lapis Lazuli from distant lands so often reserved for the cloak of the Madonna - yet here, it adds such depth & richness to the sky - it is as if Heaven is come to Earth - and in some ways this is what the symbolism of the moment represents.

Although fixed in time - as it were - it is also an ever-present moment. The moment of Christ's arrival into our lives - the coming of Christ Consciousness or at least the promise of it. For surely this is what the moment portends -an opportunity to evolve – to grow – to shine.

What we might all make of such a moment - such an entry of the Divine into our lives - our own city - remains to be seem. What lies ahead for Jesus in the days of the week ahead will be very telling of all who partake in the unfolding story. And this is the story we will follow - but for now it is enough to just gaze upon Giotto’s lovely painting and meditate upon the story to come.

Much love
Anne Maria
x x x

Hold the Light/blog published regularly during the Crisis @
www.annemariaclarke.net/blog

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Hold the Light: Wisdom from Myth, Legend & Fairy Tale 17: Resting.

4/3/2020

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“The world rests in the night. Trees, mountains, fields, and faces are released from the prison of shape and the burden of exposure. Each thing creeps back into its own nature within the shelter of the dark. Darkness is the ancient womb. Nighttime is womb- time. Our souls come out to play. The darkness absolves everything; the struggle falls away. We rest in the night.”
― John O'Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

Why do we even bother with these old tales? What can they possibliy have to say in such a time of global crisis?
Isn’t it always best to focus on helping in real tangible ways like the valiant health and support workers all across our globe? Like those searching for cures - mass producing masks & ventilators - growing food & farming and endless other absolutely vital tasks?

Yesterday I was full of these questions - full of doubt. I doubted myself and even the relevance of the mythic and fairy - tale adventures of those fictional characters that have so absorbed my attention my entire life - but especially over the last 16 days of writing Hold the Light.

I didn’t post yesterday. I was exhausted. Somehow I had lost my way - nothing came from my pen - nothing worth publishing that’s for sure.
"I don’t think a I can do it today," I told my husband.
"There’s nothing there."

Turns out I needed to rest - like Dante and Virgil on their way up the Mountain of Purgatorio, where travelling at night was forbidden. Rest was deemed crucial to whoever made the rules there - as it was for Tolkien’s Questers and numerous others.

And I needed to rest too. So we went for a long bicycle ride in the country - side; I wrote Easter cards to my mum and daughter, both far away - my husband then lit a lovely fire - and we settled down - not so much to watch the constant stream of harrowing news - but a good film - a story.

Then I knew or rather remembered that yes - of course - stories do have meaning - great meaning infact - for all of us and maybe even more so when times are uncertain. And so it has always been, since people first used language. They give us time out too, relaxation - but and crucially, they help us reflect - and of course myths, legends and fairy-tales help us particulary in this way. It is their job.

"Stories are medicine. I have been taken with stories since I heard my first. They have such power; they do not require that we do, be, act, anything -- we need only listen."
- Clarissa Pinkola Estés

There are always times when we forget or devalue our own part to play. Forgetting is part of the journey - doubting is part of the journey - for all - yet the truth is, we all have our role to play - all our very own unique gift to share. But none of us can go on & on without rest! Whatever we are giving!

With rest there is time to dream again, to renew our tired limbs and tired minds. I remember as a child learning about medieval crop rotation - about how there always had to be a fallow field. Even nature has to rest - to stop putting out - in order to re-generate & not become depleted in her goodness.

There’s a lovely story that came to mind this morning told by Clarissa Pinkola Estes in her seminal book, Women Who Run with the Wolves. I recommend it for any one in times of exhaustion. Copyright prevents me re-printing it here of course. So here' s a little impromptu summary and adaptation

It begins long ago and far away, although closer than you might first think - the night was dark and an old man, a very, very old man, with long, yellow teeth as I remember - and a long beard, white as snow, stood peering into the darkness, straining to see ahead - for his eyes were old and worn out. In his hand he carried a lantern with the stub of a candle flickering within it. And in the far, far dstance - another light could just about be seem - in a distant cottage window- and it was this light - toward which the old man stagggered - step by slow step - and with each step he took, he grew more and more weary and the little light in his lamp grew dimmer and dimmer. Yet still he trudged on even though his poor limbs ached and seemed to grow heavier with each slow step.

Well the hours passed by and very, very gradually the old man drew close to the little cottage from which the light shone forth. And not long after that he arrived there - and the door opened wide and a plump, jovial woman with rosy cheeks and a white apron gathered him up in her arms, carried him close to fire side, set him on her lap and warmed him through.

"There, there," she said softly, "There, there."

And throughout the night she rocked him in this way and every now again repeated her comforting words,

"There, there. There, there."

And the strangest thing happened - for with every hour that passed - the old man grew younder and younger. And by the time the birds began to sing, just before dawn next day - he was transformed into the young lad he had once been - with bright blue eyes and curly golden hair.

"There, there."

she whispered, one last time - and she plucked three goldren hairs from his head and threw them in the fire - where they made the most mysterious pinging noise. She then put him down from her lap. He looked up at her with a playful smile and laughing, he ran off to become the rising sun.

Rest well dear friends, whatever part you are playing - rest well even if you are not playing a part at all - these times that we are passing through are so powerful - so very wearying in so many ways - we all need precious time out to restore, replenish & renew.
Much Love.
Anne Maria
x x x

Hold the Light/blog published regularly during the Crisis @
www.annemariaclarke.net/blog

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Hold the Light: Wisdom from Myth, Legend & Fairy -tale 15: Banished Children

4/1/2020

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In literature the world over the child is a symbol of divinity. The child mirrors the inner reality of the soul & reflects the wishes, hopes & longings to which we aspire. Thus the child becomes a symbol for that which is new and yet to come.
Extracts from The Archetype of the Child - Jung Socirty of Atlanta published 27h Sept 2014

Last time, we spoke about children, about their rainbows & dreams. Today I want to start looking at the motif of banished, orphaned and neglected children in fairy-tales and to ask some pertinent questions.

There are so many children in such tales - banished from the warmth and protection of home - sent away into the forest in the hope they might be lost or devoured by wild animals.

Why is this such a powerful and recurring motif? What light might it shed on our current situation? And What lessons can we learn ?

I wonder which fairy-tale comes to your mind when we speak of such banishments? It’s an interesting question - more than we may first imagine - for the tales we resonate most strongly with are those that tell us most about ourselves and possibly our own deep woundings.

So let’s see shall we - let’s see what is to be seen.

We all know Cinderella and Snow White, Hansel & Gretel, Red Riding Hood and the Six Swans - then there's Vassilisa, the Russian tale and the Irish Children of Lir to mention but a few.

All featuring some kind of Wicked Stepmother figure - the real mothers of so many of these children having died - leaving their children at the mercy of an often pathetic father and new wife who cannot find it in her heart to love his children even whilst knowing that this would surely be the very best way to his heart. But somehow the necessary warm cannot be accessed. Then there are those parents - like the ones of Red Riding Hood, who simply do not think things through when sending her off into the forest - or those who frankly fail in their responsibilities - like Hansel & Gretal's odd family.

Female children, princesses in many cases often unwittingly stir up huge insecurity and jealousy in the new wife - whose own beauty seems to fade in direct relationship to the growth of the child’s. It is often then that she makes her move - as in the tale of Snow White.

The motif recurs in Vassilisa’s story - but here it’s not just the stepmother but the ugly sisters too who feel threatened - so off they send her - into the deep, dark wood - in the hope she will never ever return.

Then there's Cinderella, though kept at home, is banished to the kitchen - stripped of all her status & reduced to waiting on her father’s new family day and night.

In the tale of the Six Swans and the Children of Lir - it is the love the king has for his children that the new queen cannot endure and whilst we hear nothing of the father’s response to the child’s disappearance or fall from grace in the tales mentioned so far – here he is utterly broken.

He desperately tries to hide his children when he realises the new queen's intent - but of course she finds them - as she does in the Irish tale and casts her evil spell anyway. The children are utterly overtaken by the charm she has worked and are instantly transformed into six white swans.
The Queen laughs mercilessly when she sees her magic working and flings her arms into air triumphantly.

“Take to the skies in swans white down, she cries
No more shall you wear your human crown.
‘'Tis I alone share your father’s throne,
Whilst you poor creatures the wild world roam.
Though never more you shall belong
You’ll haunt men’s hearts with sweet swan song.”
The Six Swans: Adapted by Anne Maria Clarke

Like Sleeping Beauty - the vast majority of these children do not have regular names and the older the tale is in origin - the more this is true. They are symbols first and foremost as we have said - symbols of qualities much greater than themselves.

And by far one of the greatest qualities represented is Innocence - so pure and untainted, open-hearted & kind. Beautiful by name & Beautiful by nature - and yet without thought or care for outward things.
In myth they are Divine Children, as said above - yet even here - in this more humble setting - such children - though they must all grow up and evolve their innocence into experience, as the poet Blake tells - their state at the moments of their banishment & neglect is hugely significant.

For if - as Ann Baring suggests - the Fairytale Court or Family represents the whole - inner & outer - personal & collective - then how will we possibly fare - split off from all that they are?????

Winncott called the motif of the child - the true self - others the lost heart of the self. The life giver - or core of innocence which is the crucial element in a persons spiritual nature.
Extracts from The Archetype of the Child - Jung Society of Atlanta published 27h Sept 2014

Much Love
Anne Maria
x x x

Hold the Light/blog published daily during the Crisis @
www.annemariaclarke.net/blog

To be Continued....

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Falling from Grace - a storytelling

Plato's Story

Giotto di Bondone, Resurrection 1304-06, fresco, Cappella Scrovegni, Padua(Resurrectio: Noli me tangere )

The Crucifixtion of Christ by Giotto di Bondone in the Scrovegni Chapel, c. 1305(La Crocifissione di Cristo)

"The Last Supper", 1304, by Giotto di Bondone (1270-1337)

Jesus washing the feet of the Disciples 1304-3106, by Giotto di Bondone

Expulsion of the Money-changers from the Temple (fresco, detail), Giotto, c. 1305, in Scrovegni Chapel, Padua, Italy

Anne Maria Clarke is a storyteller, writer, & teacher of myths, legends & fairy - stories.

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Giotto di Bondone, Resurrection 1304-06, fresco, Cappella Scrovegni, Padua
(Resurrectio: Noli me tangere )

The Crucifixtion of Christ by Giotto di Bondone in the Scrovegni Chapel, c. 1305
(La Crocifissione di Cristo)