Joseph McNair 
The Gathering Dusk fell on the thatched roof house at the edge of the village. The evening shadows cast by the forest that framed it, fell closely around it to guard its modesty like a cloak, guard, drawing a veil over its bosom and hiding its humble beauty, hiding as well an assembly of great moment. The wise woman who had convened the meeting, Maggie/Eshu the village healer, stood before the people in her small kitchen, regarding each of them as they drank the herbal tea she had prepared, thinking how she would convene this meeting. Finally she abandoned her well-rehearsed introductory speech and just began to talk to them as old friends and students. "We are well met, she exclaimed. "It is time to take stock of our doings, individually and as a group, in these five years since the night of the "night of awakening." Maggie referred to the evening of celebration, of drumming and dancing, five years before when six of those assembled, Tom/Ogun the blacksmith, Peter/Osanyin the healer/herbalist, Simon/Oshosi the hunter/constable, Ezzie/Oshun the healer, Maggie/Eshu and Shango caused all of the attending member/celebrants of the ancient African wisdom tradition to "awaken", to become one with their guardian spirits, their Oríshas. It was a night of a second initiation. This night, the six were joined by Maggie/Eshu's oldest student/initiate, the serving woman, Mava, who was among those awakened. "Who will be the first to speak?" The village healer asked. Tom/Ogun, village blacksmith, rose after a moment's hesitation. An imposing man, his physicality was ill concealed by his humble clothing. He regarded each of the people sitting at the kitchen table and in chairs around the kitchen. Then he spoke, his words and voice flavored by the spirit of iron: "Although we follow a new path," said Tom/Ogun, "it is still meet that Eshu goes first, for it is Eshu who was said to distribute the Great Mystery's ashe to the rest of us, who facilitates or blocks our aspirations, who punishes us today for what we do tomorrow. You who have brought us together; who has taught us all and who has fostered this one who now leads us down this new path, speak first, guardian of the crossroads, messenger of the great mystery, I beg you, speak! Maggie smiled on hearing this. She, more than any of them, knew this blacksmith the best, even more than his family. She had watched him and his cousins grow up. She had taught them to play the bata drums. She was there when the spirit of iron took him. She had seen past his gruff and combative nature into his heart, the heart of an artist and craftsman. She had seen his steel. And now that he had awakened to almost full consciousness of his Orísha nature, she could see that he remembered his friendships of old generally, and the particular closeness between them. She smiled warmly at the tribute this man of few words had just paid her. She marveled, too, in his Orísha-inspired eloquence. "It is well," she said, and turned that radiant smile on all of them. "I am the eldest among you in all of our incarnations. Yet it is only since I have awakened that I can begin to piece together my own designs. Alas, if it is true that I can throw a stone today to kill tomorrow's bird, I am just remembering how this is done. The years had treated Maggie well. Now in her early fifties, her big-boned frame had become softer, more rounded; her angular, mahogany face had fleshed out. Only the abundant streaks of white in her bushy hair hinted at her real age. She had become truly ageless. "I would like to tell you that I am fully aware, but for me it is like playing puzzles. The pieces are all there but they must be placed and fitted together by me. Each time I put one in place, I am flooded with the Orísha's memories. There is so much to fit into a simple village healer's awareness. The hand of Eshu was at work in all that has befallen us, but only now am I comfortable claiming to be one with that hand." The others smiled knowingly. They had no doubt that the hand of Eshu was at work. To them, she had always been that hand. "All that I know of this way of life," she continued, "all that I have taught you was first taught to me by my grandmother and then in my dreams by my Orísha husband as I knew him then. When He took my head, he taught me directly, in dreams, in trance and even by appearing to me in waking moments. I did not know that he and I were one and the same. I have taught you even as I was taught. " Suddenly her voice took on the cadences of a story teller... I came to this village, Aiye, fleeing the ghosts of another life., a life in which I may have committed murder using these same arts to rid me of an abusive husband. I never looked back to view the body. I can only assume that I killed him because he hasn't shown up to trouble my life anymore. I came to this village to start anew. All I knew then was to keep doing here and with new people what Gran taught me to do. The night of the great storm changed my life as dramatically and completely as this village was changed in its wake, and riding on that storm, came this child that I have raised as my own. He brought with him my great purpose in this life - to raise him, even teach him until he was able to teach us. This has come to pass. He is a wonderful teacher. His wisdom flows directly from the great mystery and out of his young mouth." She said this last with considerable pride. She had learned that Shango was the acknowledged avatar of Olodumare, the great mystery, born on a night of a terrible storm some eighteen years before. He was cut from the womb of his dead mother by Maggie, the attending village healer, and raised by her as her own son. She named him for the spirit of lightning. Soon, the boy began to manifest early the memories of the Orísha in his elemental aspects and in his incarnation as the fourth king of the Yoruba people in ancient Oyo. By the age of seven, the Orísha overshadowed the personality of the boy and made himself known to Maggie at a drumming and dancing celebration held on the night of the new moon where the Oríshas descended to possess the initiate members. The Orísha Shango, speaking through the boy proclaimed that he did not possess the boy, but that the boy and he were one, even though their identities had not yet blended. He called forth the guardian spirit of the village healer, the Orísha Eshu, and taught him how to integrate with his human host so that he and the village healer would become one and the same. This he declared was the new path, and that he was sent by the great mystery to teach it. By the age of twelve, the identities of the Orísha and the boy Shango were almost completely blended. His mother called upon her oldest and closest initiates (except Simon the hunter) to teach and apprentice him. The boy studied with them for a little more than a year before he called forth the Orísha in each and awakened them. This was done within one week. His own spirit was quickened in the process and his blending became complete. At the next ceremony at the full of the moon, Maggie/Eshu ,the village healer, awakened Simon/Oshosi, the hunter, and all six of them in turn awakened the rest of the celebrants present. Shango began that night to teach all of the awakened ones. One only had to watch Shango teaching to be struck by the contrasts, the framing of powerful forces within the boy's juvenescent figure, the trauma of wisdom issuing forth from the mouth of a child, the overwhelming feeling of wonder that bulged out the eyes of those who listened. The contrasts mirrored a certain internal reality. The Orísha personality has the ability to recognize the multiple realities of energy, mind, and spirit. This recognition within the human consciousness grounds and validates the personal unification of human experience. Personal experience generates in human consciousness the development of reason, the ideas of wisdom and the insights of faith. When human consciousness expands, aggregate human experience is assimilated into patterns of understanding. When Orísha consciousness awakens, especially in a child or adolescent, the blended personality must still undergo the experiences pre-ordained by the incarnation. In short, in spite of his great wisdom, Shango had a great deal of growing up to do. "On the night of the new moon, five years ago," she continued, "a veil was rent and torn. That veil was an invisible barrier that separates the seen from the unseen. The vibratory rate of this very village rose dramatically that night, even though we, through our singing, dancing and drumming each new and full moon, have been raising our frequency regularly these twenty- three odd years when our guardian spirits mount us. This village has truly become a place of power, especially now with so many of us awakened." She looked about to see if the others were following her. "But Aiye has ever been a place of power, even before our celebrations. This planet is a place of many such places; all manifestations of multidimensional space. The energy fields of these "spots" may dominate in certain places, like our dancing grounds, particularly, and the forest as a whole. To Orísha sight, places of power look like "holes" in the fabric of space "filled" with scintillating energy. I have seen this energy. It is now become easy for me to see it surrounding plants, in certain places that I have been drawn to. I am sure Peter and Simon have seen these places as well as their energy." Simon/Oshosi and Peter/Osanyin looked at each other knowingly and nodded. I have spent the last five years, in part, reacquainting myself with this place I call home; seeing it with brand new eyes. I have gone about my duties as village healer with new purpose, though I admit that much of my work has been lovingly taken over by Peter/Osanyin, Ezzie and Mava among others, as I took over the work of my grandmother in another place." She paused again as if momentarily lost in thought. "But mainly," she picked up her thread, " I have been re-learning what it means to be Eshu in a human body. This is like containing a mighty river in a water jug. Most of you would not be surprised to hear me admit that I am not a humble person, but I can tell you truthfully that I have learned real humility in trying to assess the strengths and weaknesses of my blended identity. From the beginning, I have, it seems, wanted to go wherever I will. The Great Mystery made it so that there was no place where I was denied, no language I could not speak, and no rule I could not break. I am not ashamed to tell you that I was dumbfounded by this insight and the memories attached to it. I was filled with astonishment and perplexity. I tremble even now at the thought of such power, at the things the energy in me has done in and out of the body, even from the first days. But such is what is needed in the expression of the specific focus of this power, the source and completion of my existence. I have learned why Eshu is called the gatekeeper between the realms of man and gods, lord of the crossroads, owner of paths, roads and doorways, and divine mediator of fate and information. Eshu is the pure energy of opportunity; the power that closes one door only to open another. Eshu is the preparer for broader experience and in this role has been a teacher both kind and cruel. This power is that which backlashes if used only for short-term self-gratification; if used without consideration for the physical and emotional well being of the planet and those with whom we live. Eshu tests the strengths and weaknesses of mankind, imposes the burdensome and laborious tasks of decision-making, and of doing the most with what one has. Eshu sits at and in between the doors of childhood, adolescence and adulthood with a battery of tests of right choices; foments the wonder and curiosity that causes one to leave the mundane and plunge into exhilarating magic or to drown in the murky depths of debauchery and depravity. Eshu uses anger and despair to drive, love and happiness to draw, from birth to death, all the while demanding the right choice of door, path or crossroad along the way. I have learned that Eshu is not human, but pure focused energy. I and every human possessed of him have given this energy its human shape and feel. The Eshu personality is an amalgam of preceptor and guide. Its voice in my head is my own voice cupping that vital energy as the hand cups the wind. As the hand shapes the wind for an instant, so does my voice shape that precious flow, instructing me if I am fast enough or attentive enough to learn; revealing life's multiple perspectives like a house with a thousand windows. Eshu is the energy that flows against the tide of destiny; that flows through the cracks and crevices of fate or along the seam separating multiple worldviews or over the precipice of human folly. It is an energy that informs sight and vision. Eshu gives the capacity to live with ambiguity and a heaping helping of chaos. Eshu is the aliveness in life, and charges my identity with unadulterated pith and potency. I have become one with this power. Eshu is the flow and the charge; I am the action, I express the intention. The hand of Eshu has been revealed to me in my own life. It was this hand that moved my grandmother to the center of my life; the wise-woman who raised me, who took me under her wing and taught me all she knew. The same hand that set the forces in motion that grew me, prepared me for spiritual purpose. My grandmother drew out of me the capability of reaching and communing with the Oríshas, drawing them close, keeping them ever but a thought away. She taught me how to call on them in times of need and to apply their teachings. I grew strong and confident, ready to be tested. My husband was that test." The hand of Eshu moved the hapless Robert, the butcher's son, into her life space, through an arranged marriage brokered by her father. It was her father's intent to improve her station in life by marrying her off to the dissipative scion of the wealthy butcher. But Robert was no prize in any way shape or form. He brought along with his dowry jealousy and an unimaginable cruelty, which revealed itself when his attempts to control and dominate her met with her formidable and often physical resistance. Robert, a self-indulgent wastrel, seemed to take pleasure in tormenting her, as if doing so helped him displace his own anguish and fear of the truth about himself. She built around her a wall of indifference that fended him off for a while. But when in a drunken rage, he overpowered and raped her while she slept, she took extraordinary steps to terminate the marriage and escape from him and that life. She cast a potent spell, calling on the hand of Eshu to afflict her husband with a wasting disease. Then she left that town, never looking back, never to return, knowing that the deed was already done. "The hand of Eshu brought me here so that I might become the initiating force in your lives, so that I might introduce you to the Oríshas and help you release the life-changing energies pent up at your very core, so that I would be here to receive Shango and the gift that he brings. All of this has been revealed to me. There is more, but this will suffice for this occasion." She sat down in her chair by the wood stove. No one spoke for a while. None seemed willing to break the spell of her words. Finally, the blacksmith stood. His deep voice intoned the vibratory rates of the mother drum he played in the ceremonies: "I, too, have learned much about myself and about this power that resides aware in my identity in these years since the awakening." He looked across the table at Shango. "Thank you, Spirit of Lightning, for coming back again. Thank you, too, for my awakening. It is a wonderful and terrible gift. But thanks first must go to you, Maggie/Eshu for my salvation - for saving me from a life of strenuous and continuous toil; for freeing my soul. I was to be a farmer like my father and his father before him. But there was no joy for me in the cultivating the land, the sowing and harvesting domesticated plants systematically turning over of the soil raising of poultry, producing eggs, milk, fruit or other crops, or the breeding and grazing of livestock. I hated that work, but I was a dutiful son of my father and would have done as he wished had you not come along. You gave to me the gift of choice. First, you gave me Iya Ilu, the mother drum, and then taught me her speech, the shifting syllables of an ancient language, gliding up and down in pitch, rising and falling between the sharp strikes and muted palming caresses that shaped the ecstatic pulses of sensual, spiritual rhythm--the language heard by the Oríshas; the language that drew the power down. You taught me how to make her from the skins of cows and trees in the woods. I lived for the nights of the new and full moons when I could lose myself in my drumming, in the spirit of Àyàn, the ancient spirit of drummers and Alekuso of Ibariba from the old land who was the first to make and use the ceremonial drum. And then Ogun came sending before him a vision of tortoise shells scattered among iron rods and drums and gongs and knives and machetes and then there was a profound blackness. When I awoke, the celebrants who watched me said that I stood up from behind my drum shortly after I began to play with Simon/Oshosi and Peter/Osanyin, the Ogun rhythm. They say I danced a vigorous warrior's dance that night in which I seemed to be using a machete to clear a path through the forest so that other warriors could follow me. But unlike you, I could not communicate directly with my guardian spirit. I just felt his presence and his intention when forced to make the important decisions in my life. You introduced me to my master, Mr. John Smith, the lecherous old village blacksmith with a hankering for young girls. You arranged for my apprenticeship with him. Some say you bribed him with a potion to restore his flagging potency. Whatever his weaknesses with young girls, his true love was working in iron. He passed that love on to me. Although I, too, have had my dalliances," he made a point of avoiding the eyes of Ezzie/Oshun as he said this, " my iron mistress will brook no rival for long. No woman has yet been able to pleasure me like iron, to let me bend her, shape her and make her into something beautiful or useful. It is in iron and metal that I am able to make things actual, to measure up, to carry out, satisfy and complete..." With a quizzical look of insight, Tom paused a moment and looked at those seated around the kitchen -- as if he had just realized the import of what he said. “Old John tried to teach me everything he knew. He was driven like one who knew his time was near. He guided me with enough steel to keep me on task and make me complete whatever I started. But he was also there to answer all of my questions. He became a father to me. My own father, whom I had lost to the tedium of farming long before, was only there to set out my chores and the like. He was always too tired to spend any time with me away from work - and I was his only child. Old John taught me how to patch and repair pots and pans; made sure I knew the ins and outs of close-fit joining and mending cracks, restoring threads, ears and replacing handles on all cast iron, steel, copper, bronze, nickel, and brass utensils. He showed me how to craft and repair shovels, rakes, hoes, spades, picks, hammers, horseshoes, knives and swords. I learned to smelt metal and forge ingots. I was perfectly at home around the fiery forge, and, in time, I came to believe I could make or fix anything made of metal. Under his guidance, I even became adept at shoeing horses.” Tom paused again, his brow wrinkling in sorrow. "And then he died... before I could complete my apprenticeship. For a time I believed that the gods were cruel indeed. I felt that in death, Old John had abandoned me as my own father had abandoned me in life. What would I do? And then what I now know, also, to be the hand of Eshu - one door closing so that another door can open - moved again in my life. Wonder of wonders old John Smith left me, the unfinished apprentice, his workshop like I was his natural born son. I thank you, Maggie/Eshu, for all of this. If I didn't have the workshop, I would not have been able to apprentice Shango, who has now completed six years with me and is ready to go out on his own, a master. We have become friends and have grown close. This was not possible in other incarnations when we took our human personifications so literally and completely. But over the past five years I have learned the truth of the Orísha energy that claims my identity. I, too, was puzzled and even terrified by the memories that came with the awakening. Who was this sullen, bloodthirsty godling, this cuckold and vengeful spirit, this brooding guardian who had forsaken humanity only to be enticed through his lust to help them again, this son who had lain with his mother, this jealous sibling who had vowed if it was the last thing he did to kill his brother? I did not like the picture of this "me." But then I came to understand what Ogun truly is. If Eshu is called the gatekeeper between the realms of man and gods, lord of the crossroads, owner of paths, roads and doorways, and divine mediator of fate and information, then Ogun, is the spirit of iron, the owner of power and good fortune, the force of nature that keeps matter in motion; sustains life. Like Eshu, Ogun is not human, but shaped by human desire, became human-like when its energy touched the human mind and heart. Ogun is the power that transforms, the same power that changes lumps of coal into diamonds, changes the frustrations and unmet needs of an ordinary life into the accomplishments and satisfactions of authentic spiritual living. Where Eshu is the owner of paths, the energy that is Ogun removes all obstacles that obstructs and sacrifices everything that impedes the progress of Spirit. It is the energy of Ogun that increases the human capacity for perception, insight and wisdom, which causes the apprehension of truth as it is, not what one wants it to be. It is the role of this energy to do whatever needs to be done to bring about spiritual transformation. The obstacles cleared from the path are almost always internal. Fear, self doubt, insecurity, confusion, ignorance or lack of understanding, insufficient experience or improper motivation are typical hindrances. The energy of Ogun helps anyone struggling to find the way back to Olodumare to identify the real obstacles, so that attention is not deflected and given to solutions doomed to failure because he or she ignores the root causes of the challenge in question.” He looked over to Shango, seated in the chair at the corner of the table closest to Maggie/Eshu by the stove. His face softened into the barest hint of a smile. "Thank you, Shango, for this new path. Thank you for helping me awaken to who I am. I know now that I am more than a village blacksmith, which my humble life may even become a parable for those who follow. I know you now. You are not my hated brother and rival. You are not the stealer of my wives. You are not even my apprentice whom I've seen grown into a master craftsman over these past six years. As I have grown closer to the truth of the Orísha power in me, I have seen your truth. Like brothers our energy is kith and kin. I know you now to be the power that illuminates the most intense darkness. I know you to be instant realization and insight. Where Ogun increases the capacity for insight and wisdom, Shango is the power to discern the difference between the truth and the lie, which reveals the basis of fear and offers the opportunity to choose whether to proceed on the basis of truth, or on the basis of the lie. I know you now to be the brightness that penetrates, the dazzling revelation; the strategic attack, the irresistible force through resistance. Shango illuminates life's challenges attacking its weakest points, and is the inspiration and passion for spiritual transformation. This I have seen, this I have come to know. I am at your service to do whatever you need me to do to help you teach this new way." Tom/Ogun sat down, again at his place at the small kitchen table. He looked like one who had shed a tremendous burden. Who would speak next? The suspense filled the kitchen only to be dispelled when Simon/Oshosi stood up. "I would speak now only because it is fitting that I do so. Eshu ever opens the road, while Ogun clears the path. Oshosi then comes to locate and identify the shortest distance to the destination. Unlike the rest of you here this evening, my awakening came on the very night of which we speak. I was the last among the first initiates to become one with the Orísha. I do not say this with bitterness, because I know that of us all, I have been the most isolated and inaccessible. I have stayed in my beloved forest coming out only to take commissions to apprehend criminals, to trade products of the hunt at the marketplace, to visit my brother like a thief in the night and to lose myself in the dance and drums on new and full moon nights. I, too, must begin by thanking Maggie/Eshu, the first among us." He regarded the wise woman sitting quietly by the stove, her eyes closed and her head bowed. "Like my cousin Tom and my brother Peter, my life changed when you came upon us that fateful day. We thought ourselves quite the master drummers then, pounding on those hollowed out logs behind my father's house. But when you taught us those rhythms, we knew that we had never played the drums before. You gave me Omele Abo, the son of the mother, Iya Ilu You taught me her speech and gave me the means to connect the physical world of the living with the world of the Oríshas and ancestors. You taught us the praise songs and each Orísha's rhythm that quickened our senses and gave our bodies ways of praising the owners of our heads. When Oshosi took me, my days on the farm were numbered. The same is true of my traffic with most human beings. I found a home in the forest. I made true friends with the animals and the spirit of a deer, which I later learned to be Oshosi, taught me their ways, how to speak with them, how to track them, and how to hunt them respectfully. I preferred the animals to most humans. They did not look on me as a thing to be touched, fondled or molested; they did not draw out of me that red, killing rage. The forest was my refuge. My dealings with human beings was soon limited to those infrequent visits to my family home, trips to the market to trade meat, hides and pelts and the drumming and dancing ceremonies held regularly on the nights of the new and full moons. The celebrants became my new family and I was content to see them on those evenings. My hunting and tracking skills with Oshosi's help, became well known. Those villagers who took on the responsibility of solving crimes and pursuing criminals soon sought me out. In this way I became a hunter of men -- the criminals that preyed on the surrounding villages. Then the night of the awakening came. Thank you, Shango for showing us this new path. I must admit that I had no expectations on that night other playing my drum and communing with my guardian spirit. But when Maggie/Eshu called forth Oshosi, even though I was for a brief time unconscious, I regained my consciousness in a space where my personality and the Orísha's could co-exist. I could feel Oshosi looking out through my eyes and I could see what he saw. I could access his memories. I experienced being much older than this mortal coil. Over these past five years I have resumed my life in the forest. I am every bit the hunter and tracker I was, maybe even better now. Although I still help out in the tracking of criminals, I no longer need to punish wrong doers. I confess that the main reason I allowed myself to be deputized by the constabulary, even more than the thrill of the chase, was to get back at those who hurt and shamed me as a child. But the voice and the memories of Oshosi have revealed my true purpose. The voice, of course was my own yearning voice - expressing that part of me who sits back and watches until called upon to act. The memories -- dredged from the deepest parts of human consciousness and stretched tightly over shaping power of the spirit of the tracker, are also mine in so far as my identity is immersed in the energy of the Orísha, and like glittering charms on a necklace, they stretch back an eternity. I have learned as the others have learned that my guardian spirit is neither human nor a personality but a force of nature. Oshosi is the outward thrust of power unencumbered by inertia. It is the straight line to spiritual fulfillment; the power that, like an aimed projectile, collapses time, space and distance. The energy of Oshosi is the straight and narrow way; frames the clear image and insight. It smoothes the alignment of forces within the Great Mystery; it binds us all in eternal oneness. Oshosi is the first step into the next moment of time. It is the power to walk through fear, to climb over obstacles and breach barriers to persevere, and win the prize. Shango has brought to us a new path. Maggie/Eshu has opened it. Tom/Ogun is here to clear away all that would obstruct or hinder. My role is to guide this process; to find the shortest route. All that I am and hope to be, I commit to the great work you bring to us, I, too am at your service." Ah, but you have need of me!" Ezzie/Oshun spoke up not waiting for Simon/Oshosi to sit. She stood up, wresting the attention of those gathered from the hunter. Now in her forties, she was still a commanding presence, one that drew attention as the cloverleaf draws the bee. Simon/Oshosi smiled at this, knowing that in any contest with Ezzie/Oshun, as physically attractive as he was, he was almost certain to lose. He sat down, momentarily forgotten. "It is all well and good to open and clear new paths, to plot or guide one through the shortest routes, but it takes passion to stay the course." When she said this, it was as if she had taken on her Orísha aspect. She stood there, the incarnation of balance and harmony, love and beauty. She was attraction personified -- black, with purplish highlights, tall, and still ethereally thin -- the embodiment of grace. "Thank you mother Maggie, for all you have done for me. You took me on, a spoiled and self-indulgent young wife of a man too good and tolerant for anyone like me to deserve, and taught me, not just your knowledge of herbs and cures, but what it means to grow good character. Mine was an indolent life before you came along, healer. My father was wealthy as measured by this village's standards and doted on me. I was his only child, his "gift from the gods", he said. He named me Enzili because he gave his oath to a seer that if my mother became pregnant, he would honor that old goddess. It was left to my mother to give me my moral compass, to set my limits and circumscribe my actions But when she tried to discipline me, to curb my appetites and excesses, my father would undermine her teachings by granting me all of my wishes if it was in his power to do so. I was accustomed to having my way and everything I desired, so that when my attentions began to focus on the young men in the village, I thought I could have any of them I wanted as well. But to my surprise, whenever I met and talked to a boy, I dreamed about having sex with him. Even during the daytime, if I talked with a man, erotic feelings overwhelmed me. This frightened me into an early marriage. I was only seventeen. My husband, Will, is the kindest of the Great Mystery's creatures. He was already a master artificer in brass and a lover of all things beautiful when I met him. He fell hopelessly in love with me at first sight, promising to give me my heart's desire if I would but marry him and keep his home. I did not love him, but he promised to keep me in the way I was accustomed as my father's child, so I pressured my father to give his consent. I was terrified that I would disgrace myself by giving in to these urges if I did not do so. While I did not love my husband in the ways the poets suggest, I did enjoy having sex with him. In fact, during the first two years of our marriage, we made love every night. Even when Will tried to restrain himself, I found I could not keep away from him. Soon, as his ardency began to subside, I ventured outside my marriage to "scratch my itch." I had several lovers in the village. As Tom/Ogun knows, but is much too much of a gentleman to disclose, even he became a target of my desire when he studied under Will for a time." Tom/Ogun, whose head had been lowered since she had begun to talk, lifted his eyes and looked at her unable to conceal the love in them. "I thank you for your discretion, Spirit of Iron, and for your love and kindness." She returned his look and smiled. “If Will knew anything of our affair, he said nothing. He cared for me as if nothing was wrong in our marriage. I was soon shamed in the face of his benevolence and devotion by my behavior. I vowed to drop all of my liaisons but found that that was easier said than done. And then horrors of horrors, one of my lovers grew tired of me; was interested in a younger woman. That is when I sought you out, Maggie, the mysterious village healer, to provide me a potion to revive his interest in me. You gave me so much more. You gave me back my true name. You told me things about myself that you couldn't possibly know. I remember your words to me today as clearly as if they were uttered a moment ago: There is within you a healer of great power, especially for women who wish to bear children. But you have forgotten this in the dream you are living. It is time to wake up, woman. The choice is yours to make. Join me, seek the knowledge of your true self and be that healer -- or embrace your other destiny, a ruthless mother of witches who paints herself with the blood of her enemies! When you said this last, I saw a terrible vision of my future. From that day, I put my life in your hands and let you guide me. You, whom I know now to be the power to open the conduit between the forces of nature and human consciousness, brought me to my guardian spirit. You, Maggie/Eshu made the way for us to access that spark of divinity in each of us and close the circuit with our transcendent Orísha energy. You also afforded me the privilege (with Tom/Ogun and Peter/Osanyin) of teaching the child, Shango. You gave me the privilege of teaching the greatest seer among the Oríshas to divine, the opportunity to help him complete his at-one-ment with an impulsive kiss and in doing so caused me to awaken into the awareness of Oshun. I have grown intimately acquainted with the power that now suffuses my identity. I now know source of the shaping power of my dreams -- those same dreams that portrayed me having sex with every man I met. I am no longer ashamed. Instead, I am in awe. Oshun is the erotic power that causes atoms to bind into elements, gases into planets, males and females into parents, families and generations; the forces of expansion and contraction into creation. The same power that causes one to fall in love, binds together societies, even galaxies. Oshun causes nectar to flood the honeysuckle blossom attracting the bee. Oshun causes blood to engorge the penis with excruciating pleasure. Oshun swells and sweat the vagina to higher and higher states of erotic expectation and intensity. Oshun causes the child of the Orísha to be ecstatically filled with the ashe of the Orísha. The same power that causes all life forms to reproduce drives the initiate to spiritual fulfillment; drives us all to oneness with the Great Mystery. This power has energized my visions. Indeed does the power to divine come through the doors of allure and charm. I can see and know, whether by intuition, inspiration or reflection. I have been gifted with visions of highest destiny. I can divine the array of choices we must make to create and recreate the next best version of ourselves. I have learned that it is more important to make the right choices for the right reasons than to see into the future. I have become sated with the power of Oshun. Orgasm pales before the sense of suspension, the intensely fluctuant mystery, the alchemical strangeness, and overwhelming sweetness of the Orísha. With the power that is Oshun, there is no need for faith, for its ecstatic experience gives faith in the intrinsic unity and integrity of the universe, in ourselves as integral parts of Olodumare. I no longer need a lover outside of myself. I can be the loving wife that my husband deserves. I have sublimated my sensual urges and changed them into the desire to provide loving supervision, care and advice to women during pregnancy, labor and after. This is my earthly calling, and I thank you Maggie/Eshu for opening this path for me." She looked at Shango and waited until he met her gaze. A knowing passed between them, a moment pregnant with insight. "You have given me much, my husband of old. It is my hope to repay this gift you have given me. I have divined the fate lines that lead from your decision. You have come to the crossroads. I can see much. Tell me if I can be of assistance to you..." She sat as only Oshun could sit. And in her wake, the faint fragrance of honey. Peter/Osanyin and Mava/Yemoja were the only two people present besides Shango who had yet to speak. It was well into the evening and the group of seven had been sharing their personal experiences and those with Maggie/Eshu that led up to their awakening and recounting what they had learned in the five years since. The sharings had taken on a quality of ritual, so the atmosphere in Maggie’s small rustic kitchen was charged with anticipation and something more after each one spoke. The normally voluble herbalist and drummer seemed reticent. He waited for the serving woman to rise and speak next. When she made no move to that end, he rose, seemingly at loss for words. "It has been the custom of those speaking before me to thank Maggie/Eshu for her part in their spirit life and development and to thank Shango for bringing the new revelation, the new path to oneness with Olodumare." He gave a small comical bow to both the healer and her son. His eyes flashed with mischief. "We are all so serious here today. Where is the joy? Have we not learned that this reality is an illusion, a necessary tool that we must joyfully, playfully use to create ourselves anew and experience who we really are? And a good thing too, for without Miss Maggie and Shango I have no doubt that I would be the world's most miserable yellow freckled-faced farmer!" His grin was infectious. If Maggie/Eshu hadn't raised Shango as her own, it is probable that Peter/Osanyin would have been the child of her heart. His was a joyful, ebullient spirit and she favored him as a companion, especially on her early excursions to gather herbs. Though nearly an albino, he adeptly turned his unusual appearance into an asset with his quick tongue and sharp wit. He would instinctively put people at their ease. The fact that his aptitude for herbs and their applications was so acute was merely a bonus. He was the student she loved to teach but who needed her least. "Seriously, and I use the term lightly," he milked the moment of levity for all he could before he continued..."I would add my heart felt thanks and praise these two special people, for surely my life has been transformed. Thank you Maggie/Eshu - first for Omele Ako and the language of Àyàn. With your guidance I found within me a spark of the spirit of sound and the talent to give it expression in my small lead drum. Thank you, too for the ceremonies where we drummed, sang and danced hoping that the Oríshas would come, where I learned to give my soul wings. You gave us the means to call them, and they always came. But even more than this, you helped me make sense of the forest. For many years I was wary of the forest because every time I would venture there, especially with my brother Simon, a strangeness would come over me. I did not at first find the solace there that Simon found. Instead, each time I ventured deep into the forest, I'd hear voices, sometimes a soft murmur; other times a loud, cacophonous roar -- voices with no apparent physical cause. They would call out to me, calling me names that I now know to be associated with Osanyin, or I would hear someone calling my own name only to find that there was no one there at all. I soon understood that I was not hearing these voices through my ears, but they were like thoughts entering my mind from somewhere outside of me. I would go into the forest and a name or a phrase would start repeating itself, going through my head again and again. I even found myself saying it, chanting it. Although I never intended to start thinking of it, I found it almost impossible to stop thinking about it. I couldn't share this with my brother because I didn't want him to think I was crazy. Even worse, he would feel even more compelled to protect me. So I stopped going into the forest and resigned myself to a lifetime of scratching dirt for a living. Then Maggie/Eshu came with her drums, her ceremonies and her healing arts. She'd take me on her visits to the sick and infirm and watching her, I knew this was something I could do - if I could master my fear of the forest. To be a healer, I had to go into the forest. To your credit, you didn't force me to go until I was ready. You noticed my discomfort and gently asked me about it. That day I gave up the secret that I swore I would take to my grave. You told me to tell you what I heard. It wasn't long before I realized, as you did, that the plants in the forest were talking to me; each one trying to get my attention. The plants were calling me "owner of the forest" which confused me because Osanyin had not yet taken my head. You made me talk back to them. Soon, with what you taught me and my growing ability to communicate with them, they gave me all of their secrets. And I," he said with an even grander bow", became one of your best students. You cannot know how much Shango annoyed me with his quick grasp of the knowledge of the forest herbs. It is only when you allowed me to teach him, that the plants themselves recognized him for who he was and passed that information to me. I will be forever grateful to you Shango, for awakening me to the true power of Osanyin. I have learned much these past five years as I have grown into my healing practice what it means to one with such awesome energy. The power of Osanyin conditions the physical, mental and spiritual bodies so that dis-ease will not attack it. Osanyin is the power that brings about wholeness, balance and alignment within the Great Mystery; that energizes the journey to the inner Self. There we find the reflective spark of divine consciousness embedded in human essence whose ultimate potentiality is to enter into or assimilate itself into Olodumare, or "-- and he dropped his voice dramatically, conspiratorially, "-- to remember that it is already apart of the Great Mystery and the appearance of separateness is an illusion! I am learning to live in the illusion, to use it as a means of experiencing who I am without accepting it as reality. I have learned to see my fellow humans as extensions of myself. I can see the imbalances. I know which herbs and plants will restore alignment. With the special inducements of herbs and the right foods, I have learned that anyone can be healed of anything if he or she wishes it so, that there is a connection between one's consciousness and one's behavior which enables a correct attitude towards living to ward off sickness and dis-ease. I understand your purpose as well, Shango. More than teaching us about a new path, you are here to show us the way. You have helped us awaken. Now I suspect you will help us remember. If I understand anything about the workings of the hand of Eshu, your own life will be our metaphor. Whatever you need of me, you will have. The herbalist returned to his seat. This left Mava/Yemoja the serving woman/domestic/nanny and healer. The years had brought a remarkable transformation in Mava's general appearance. Now in her early sixties (though no one would believe it), she was the understated picture of radiant health and vitality; a bright light in the village with her effervescent good cheer. When she came to Maggie nearly twenty-two years ago, complaining of painful menstruations, the affliction seemed to be a metaphor for her whole life. She was overweight, childless, dispirited and wracked with emotional pain. It seemed that she had lost her resolve even to live. It was hard to reconcile that image with the vibrant quietly assured woman rising to speak. "Those of you who know me well, know I don't talk much." She stood with her eyes closed as if searching for words behind her eyes. "I try to let my actions do my talking for me. Nor do I think I have the words to express the way my life has changed since I met Maggie/Eshu these many years ago. Even before this child came to us with his "new path", I was placed firmly on the road to personal happiness. I can thank Maggie for this. She was a young woman who through her arts could see the source of my terrible shame and pain. She spoke my truth and made me face and acknowledge it. My process of healing began that day. My father whom I adored coaxed me into performing sexual acts with him. It began when I was scarcely nine, with him touching me in my most private places. In my innocence, I didn't know it was wrong for my father to touch me that way. He'd bribe me with sweets, and reward me after I had done what he asked. Before the year was out, he forced himself on me. He hurt me terribly. My mother found me bleeding. When I told her what had happened, she at first called me a liar and then a whore. To him, she said nothing at all. I took this to mean that what had happened to me was all my fault; that there was something wrong about me. And taking my mother’s lead, I didn't’t blame my father, but took the burden of guilt and shame on myself. When my father abandoned us a short time later (for another woman, some said), although she didn't say it, I knew my mother blamed me. I no longer felt like a child. I grew to be shy and uncomfortable. I felt dirty. I grew fat. There was a dead, unfeeling space in my spirit. I wondered if my friends and playmates knew. My relationship with my mother was strained until she died. The pain eventually led me to bury any memories of those events. To get away from my mother's house, I married the first man that asked. I could have done worse. I don’t to this day know what he saw in me, but whatever it was, I am glad he saw it. He is one of my life’s blessings. Ben has been an honest man and a hard worker, though a farmer like every one else in these parts. He has put up with me and provided well for more than forty years. To my credit, I kept a good home for him. But as a sexual partner, I know that for over twenty of those years I was a bitter disappointment. The idea of having sex with anyone brought up feelings of violent disgust or loathing. He didn't bother me after a few disastrous attempts. Instead, he took his pleasure elsewhere. He was discrete in his dalliances, respectful of my feelings. I was relieved, but sad. When I confessed my terrible truth to Maggie, it was like a tremendous burden was lifted. I had been living my life half way, intent on avoiding the inevitable disappoints life brings -- the kinds of things that happen to everyone. Good things didn't happen to me, and I didn't think I could take much more pain. You told me you knew what could help me feel better and heal on the inside; that there was someone I needed to meet. You said you yourself needed an assistant to help you with your healing work and in exchange you would teach me about herbs and plants. I jumped at the promised opportunity to stop hurting for good. I was the first among us who you took into the forest to gather herbs. I was not like Peter who could hear the speech of plants, I merely did what you told me to do and committed to memory everything you said about each plant and herb. On those excursions, you shared much about your own life, even that you believed that you murdered your husband. I wanted to murder my father and said as much to you. Then you said something to me that startled me. You said that if I truly wanted to be healed, I would have to forgive my father. Alas, that was one of your teachings that I knew I could not put in effect. And then you invited me to the ceremony. When I asked you what happened there, you merely said to come and find out. I didn't know what to make of any of you that night. We were a very small group - just the boys drumming, me and Ezzie. You, Maggie, were the show. I grew frightened when I saw you change, saw your body bend and saw you dance around like a cripple; heard you speak like man. I wanted to run away but the dark forest surrounding little opening by the bank of the stream, lit by the fire and the light of the moon and stars, was even more terrifying. You hobbled over to me and pulled me up from the ground where I was sitting. You said something to the drummers in that mannish voice and the rhythm changed. You barked at me to do with my feet what you did. Though I was never much of a dancer, the steps came easily, naturally. I remember thinking how easy this was, how nice and comforting the rhythm – and then I lost control of my body. It began to undulate (I was told later) like the rippling of waves. I felt myself at one with those waves sinking down into their blue-green depths. The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was a succession of constantly changing symmetrical designs made up of millions of fish swirling in multicolored schools, vertiginous bits of ocean coral and sea shells along with kelp, plankton and ocean stones surrounding me, protecting me, loving me. Yemoja had taken me. Those of you who witnessed it told me that I came to each of you and prophesied. I cleaned the spirits of some of you. Like your guardian, Maggie, Yemoja came to me in my dreams. She would often use you to speak to me when we were alone together, especially in the forest. Soon I could feel her in me and know what she wished me to do. When she came to me in my dreams, she showed herself to me as half woman, half fish, indeed the mother whose children are the fish. This dream would repeat itself night after night. She would take my hand and draw me down into the deepest depths of the ocean, into a timeless realm where all human acts play themselves over and over again without ceasing. She made me look at my shameful secret, my loss of innocence in vivid detail again and yet again, until I could look no more, until I woke up screaming. After months of reliving this serial dream, that dead space in my spirit began to stir. I could return to that watery realm and begin to feel. The deadness gave way to a murderous rage which subsided into a caustic anger. Yemoja would not relent, but took me back to that place again and again. Then anger gave way to boredom. I was tired of seeing the same old scenes. "Look until you see something new," she demanded, taking me back to look again. And then I saw it, sitting in front of me as plain as day. I was not a whore, but merely a child. I was taught to obey my parents and that was what I did. I was a victim and my father was sick. It was not my fault, not my fault, not my fault. Laughter bubbled up out of me. What I saw new was an innocent, obedient little girl who was trying to do what her father told her to do, so that he would love her; a little girl who lived for her father's love. A little girl who didn't even know that sexual fondling from her father was wrong. In her mind, he was showing her that he loved her. But when he hurt her, when the pain became too much to bear, when the sight of her own blood and his utter disregard for how she felt became apparent, she realized that something about this “love” was very wrong. Her mother's reaction confirmed what she feared, and because of that, she held herself to blame. A new set of emotions now backed a different line of thought. Two sets of incompatible thoughts and emotions were experienced simultaneously. The image of a nine-year-old made up like a whore and seducing her father, which was what I thought to be the case, now appeared ridiculous. What I saw new in the situation, while patently true was incongruous with the way I had believed for so long and the incongruity made me laugh. I also laughed at how long I have lived with the shame and self-loathing I knew I couldn't live with. If it hadn't killed me in fifty years, there was a good chance that I wouldn't die from it. I was alive and the thing that ruined my life was not my fault! Laughter born of relief washed over me. And like a healing balm, it soothed and eventually closed my emotional wounds. I laughed even more when I realized that forgiving my father was a gift that I could now give myself. When I thought of him, I could no longer see evil incarnate, but a poor demented spirit tortured by his own misdoings. It was time for me to live, something that I couldn't do consumed with a festering hatred for him. With the wounds healed, the reason for hating was gone. Even the obsession to make him suffer as I have suffered was lifted. What he did to me did not ruin my life because I am still alive and can make of my life what I wish. I knew then that I could forgive him. This process completed itself on the night of the awakening. It was Ezzie who took me aside, called forth Yemoja, and set the blending process in motion. Like the rest of you, I, too, have had to learn how to go about my day-to-day activities with an Orísha in my body. There have been some dramatic turnarounds. My poor husband who had to endure for years my revulsion of anything sexual now has to contend with the fierce sexuality of Yemoja animating this sixty-odd year old body. I am trying not to be too hard on him. I will spend the rest of my life involved in the care and the health concerns of children. This is where I can direct my passion. This is where I can ride the pulses of Yemoja to self-realization. If Eshu claims ownership of all paths, Yemoja is the seed of those paths and the power that drives their manifestations. Yemoja is the energy that moves one inward toward deeper, wider dimensions of self. It is the power that moves us backward into personal our past and breaches the barrier into the eternal now. Yemoja is the abrupt, invisible and electric force that mediates between the dynamic play of opposites, resolving, synthesizing, vitalizing and nurturing the stuff of spirit; the healing and regenerative power of forgiveness. Thank you, Shango. my child. Should you need anything of me, it is yours without asking.” And with that, Mava/Yemoja sat down. It was now Shango’s turn to speak. He still looked very much the boy, standing up slowly, shyly, nodding to all of these people he had grown up around and who had taught him, even though his body proclaimed him very much a man. But he had never truly been a child, his awareness embracing dimensions of knowing that were eternal. He was the avatar of Olodumare and it was as that avatar that he now spoke. “Respected mother, the only mother I have known in this life, respected masters, teachers and friends, I am humbled by what I hear today for it speaks volumes about your progress along the new path. It has been said that I have been sent by Olodumare to teach you, to set an example that you might follow in your journey to become one with the Great Mystery. Be neither impressed nor fooled by those pretentious words. For in truth there is nothing to teach. My role is to help you remember, to remind you of whom you really are. All learning is remembering and the lessons learned are but memories reclaimed. But before I begin, I too, must thank Maggie/Eshu, for my life and for her love. A love that has sheltered me these eighteen years through a rather uneventful human childhood,” he flashed an ironic smile, first at his mother and then to each of those seated in the kitchen “but one rich spiritual growth and remembrance. Because of you, mother, and all the rest of you, I have remembered who I am and what I have come here to do.” He looked at the blacksmith seated nearest to him at the table. He marveled that this, the teacher he had most feared, had become the one he valued most. “Thank you Tom/Ogun for taking me as your apprentice. Thank you for stepping outside of and overcoming the many illusions that cast us in the roles of adversaries, enemies and competitors. You have taught me much and I can now ply my trade in this contextual field. It is Ogun’s role as a toolmaker that has meant most to me during my apprenticeship with you. I have performed many useful tasks and made many tools that ease and facilitate man’s daily labor, but I have now come to know the spiritual meaning of the tools Ogun makes. The tools that Ogun makes shape human transformation, dig into human potential, clear the spiritual path and provide protection. They gather and smooth rough areas of the self, cultivate one's potential, bend or shape human faculties; and pierce or penetrate the hardened areas of the soul. I have learned to fashion my own set of tools for my life’s work and for this I thank you. “ He smiled warmly at the light-skinned herbalist: I thank you, Peter/Osanyin for reminding me, as a great teacher does, of my knowledge of herbal lore. Thank you for reintroducing me to the spirits of the herbs and plants that grow wild in the forest. You have given me all the evidence I need that Olodumare is indeed bountiful. In our forest there are cures for all diseases and disabilities if we but remember to ask the plants. We can know their secrets because they are one with us and there are in truth no secrets between us. I thank you for your gift of play. You made learning fun. You taught me how to turn my fear into an adventure. You were there to guide me to and through the door to all the mysteries by playing tricks or posing puzzles. You taught me that life itself is a joyous game. You helped me establish a responsible connection with our common mother, the Earth. Through your guidance I have learned that to know is to heal, just as you, who in one of your illusions recovered from a terrible maiming, healed yourself and became better with one arm and one leg than most men with two.” And to the beautiful Ezzie/Oshun, he turned and said: “You have declared Ezzie/Oshun that you know more than anyone what may become of me. No doubt you can see some of the decisions I have to make and the fate lines that issue forth from them. You are a gifted seer, and I thank you for reminding me that I had this ability, developed over many illusory lifetimes. You can probably see, too, that like all of us here, I am at the junction in the road, I have divined my highest destiny. Indeed I came here knowing with absolute certainty what it was. My highest destiny is to remember that I am already one with Olodumare and that all of my paths lead to this. I am here to experience the joy of recreating myself in ever grander versions so that I may know who I am. I am here to show you all how not to get lost in your illusions, but how to use them to remember who you are. It was you, Ezzie/Oshun who caused me to remember that joy. You awoke in me a passion that made me want to do anything you asked. By using your allure and charm you caused me to remember not only how to divine but how to glimpse into the realm of absolute knowledge. The experience nearly unbalanced but you stabilized me with a kiss. I will never forget that kiss. It made me whole. I have no need of any of you but genuinely want each of you, especially the awakened, to live your lives authentically, especially as your lives touch mine. There are no rules for travel along this new path, no requirements. There are no judgments, no conditions, no chosen people and no special knowledge. All that you need, you already have. Over twenty years ago, Maggie/Eshu opened this path for each of you, a path that took you to the stomach of the earth where each of you might develop an on-going relationship with an aspect of Olodumare’s power. You each made a deep connection with one or more of these aspects, allowing them to take your heads and in doing so unlock the great mystery of your inner selves. But you had not yet begun to remember and like so many others before you, you began to think of these powers as gods apart from yourselves, intruding outside forces who manipulated your lives like puppet masters, pulling your strings. And like those before you, rather than wield that power, you allowed the power to wield you, feeding it pieces of your beliefs, your personality, and your humanity; making it seem human. Such is the nature of the illusion we call reality that these aspects, these Oríshas, colored by their human contact, and shaped by human belief, took on human characteristics and became the flawed deities of equally flawed human myths and religions. But the Orísha, regardless of what we might believe them to be, are what they are – forces, powers, or different aspects of Olodumare! Your contact with them quickened your inner spirit. The regular ceremonies and possession by them caused you to grow accustomed to the presence of the power and to establish a relationship with it. The highly developed intuition that comes with the influence of the Orísha gave each of you the ability to “see” the closeness in quality and substance of your own consciousness to the essence of the Orísha. My role was merely to remind you that man and Orísha could indeed co-exist in the same identity; that indeed they were one. Once you remembered this, you could then experience that oneness and the illusion of separateness was suspended. These past five years have seen each of you growing in the understanding of your power, your purpose and who you really are. You have revisited the events in your lives that have brought you to this moment in time and have tried to make sense of them. You are healing from the perceived hurts inflicted upon you by this process, forgiving those who hurt you. You are learning to forgive yourself for the pain you have caused others and yourself. You are using the power of the Orísha to live in harmony with creation. You have done all of this by living your lives, pursuing your respective vocations, relating to family and loved ones. I envy you because although I am here to show you the way, I have only begun to experience the events and fulfill the ideas that I personify. We have continued to dance and celebrate on the nights of the new and full moons because there is value in traditions and there is equal value in examining the events that brought you to the present moment. We have begun to meet and share our experiences and insights, helping those who are still struggling with the change. Like you, I have, for the most part, lived my own simple life these five years, making myself available to each of you to answer your questions about the changes you are experiencing or to talk to you about your individual journeys. I have divined for some and brought healing to others but only when you have chosen to have me do so. I can now take into this world these skills of prescience and healing as well as those of a master blacksmith to help meet the challenges that each moment may bring. The only difference between me and you is that I was born aware of who I am and of the illusions I use to recreate myself into increasingly better versions of myself. I am the personification of the truths that lead to the realization of oneness with the Great Mystery. The way I live my life must be an example to others that they may see and remember. So I will remind you of these truths, for they are the new path. Olodumare is the Great Mystery of life itself, and we are one with that mystery. We are deeply connected to all life, to all that is. We have never been separated from Olodumare. There is no separation from anything. There is only oneness; there is only unity. There is only Olodumare. We are all aspects of Olodumare and ever do we seek to know who we are. We have drawn the veil of forgetfulness about us so that we can play in the illusions we create for ourselves. We use illusions to know who we are. We use the illusion of separateness to recreate ourselves into better versions of ourselves in each moment of time so that we can know the complexity of who we are. This is the new path and the great work. Time, too, is an illusion in which each moment provides the stage, the illusory setting where we create the set of circumstances and challenges that draw out of us different qualities and aspects of ourselves. This is how we know who we are. In these settings, we act, we think and we speak. Such is our power that every act defines us, every thought reveals what we wish to create. Every word we speak declares what we believe to be real and true. We remember that we are courageous when we overcome our fears. We remember that we are strong when we overcome our weaknesses. We remember that we are competent when we triumph over our failures. We remember that we are knowledgeable when we overcome ignorance. We remember that we are serene when we overcome anger. We find out we are humble when we overcome judgment. We remember that we are compassionate when we overcome our bigotry. We remember that we are love when we overcome envy, jealousy, guilt and shame. We are one with Olodumare and need nothing outside of ourselves. Everything we think we need we already have for Olodumare is all there is. All that we need exists in us, is us; therefore, we can give ourselves anything we need at any given moment. We create and use the illusion of need to experience this; to remember this. Even death is an illusion for Olodumare is life eternal. Death cannot stop us from recreating ourselves, from knowing who we are. We do not die. We continue to live after our earthly death. Our bodies may die, but we are not our bodies. When we seek to know and experience the Great Mystery, Olodumare, we are seeking to know who we are. All we go through in our lives, the trials and tribulations, the tragedies and triumphs, the great loves and losses is but part of this process. Each experience is essential and when we remember we can apply what we have learned from the experience to our knowledge of who we are. We do not fail because Olodumare cannot fail. Failure is an illusion. We use this illusion to experience the aliveness, the joy of success. When we remember that we are one with Olodumare, we know that we are neither bereft, defective, destitute, imperfect nor inadequate. Olodumare is abundance, is more than sufficient unto itself. Being one with Olodumare means that we have no more, no less than everything we might ever need. There are no limited resources. Insufficiency is an illusion. We use this illusion to experience the joy of sharing Olodumare’s abundance. In Olodumare there is no part that is better than, grander or greater than any other part. There are no rankings or hierarchies. The Oríshas are not better than us, they are us for they, too, are one with the Great Mystery. Olodumare is life and love. That life is everlasting; that love is unconditional. Superiority and inferiority are illusions. We use these illusions to experience the unconditionality of love and the eternality of life. Because we have forgotten who we are, we have lost ourselves in our illusions – illusions created for our joy and pleasure. Pain, heartache, trauma and destitution are experienced when we become lost in our illusions and forget that we have created them for our joy of creating. Illusions give us the experience of what we are not so that we can become aware of, declare and express and fulfill who we really are. Ignorance is an illusion. Judgment and condemnation are also illusions. The notion that there are requirements about how to live or what to do if one is achieve success, happiness or self-realization is an illusion. Confronting and overcoming the challenges posed by our illusions helps us to make of our lives glorious statements of who we really are. Our true happiness is derived from this. So I say to you, there is nothing that you have to do to traverse this new path but continue to live your lives fully. The illusions are but tools to help you understand what is truly real. They are designed to bring you joy not pain; pleasure, not sorrow, exhilaration, not defeat. To know more profoundly who you are, embrace the challenges that your illusions bring. Observe your actions, knowing that these give form and meaning to who you wish to be. Observe your thoughts, knowing that these tell you what you want to bring into being. Observe your words for these reveal what you believe to be true. You are already one with the Great Mystery, remember this and be happy experiencing the wonder of who you are. The time has come for me to go out into the world and fulfill the promise of my destiny. There is so much for me to experience. I will take each of you with me in my heart for the path leading into and out of the darkness of illusion is one that each of us must travel alone. Be content that you have prepared me well and that I venture forth with the protection and the comfort of your love.” Silence hung heavy in the room when the boy finished speaking. Finally, Maggie voiced what was on the minds of six of the seven present. “Where will you go, my son?” “I will go where my path takes me, Mother.” “Can you not experience what you must here, in this village among us?” “Yes I can, Mother. But I choose to go. But don’t worry, I foresee that my path will bring me back here more often than not.” “When will you go, Shango?” These last words sounded less like an Orísha and more like a mother’s heart breaking. “Soon.” Without warning, brilliant flashes of lightning lit up the room. In the distance, sounding like the ceremonial bata drums, the ensuing roll of thunder announced a coming storm. Maggie/Eshu, the village healer smiled a bittersweet smile, knowing that all would be well. |
