Wow. It's hot. And dry. Mercury's STILL retrograde and tempers are short, patience all used up. This evil junta has another 500+ days left to screw the world up even worse than it already has (if you can imagine such a thing) and the wingnuts won't go gently into their good night. Meanwhile, the Dems in Congress are keeping their very precious dry powder very nice and very dry, my Precious.
I think we could all use a good laugh. The kind of laugh that releases endorphins, relaxes all your muscles, floods your immune system with antibodies. The kind of laugh that makes you feel comradly and warm towards everyone laughing along with you. Sacred laughter. Healing laughter. A good long belly laugh.
Before the Rock Cave of Heaven where Amaterasu Omi Kami, the Sun Goddess had hidden her radiant face where all the assembled Gods and Goddesses had tried and failed to lure her out I stepped up to the Cave with utmost seriousness with grave determination with proper decorum and a lofty mien and with a bump and a bump and a bump bump bump bump lifted my kimono and revealed myself in ways that caused the mouths of the exaulted ones to water and fall open. Then I played puppet with my labia and paid myself a little lip service. I heaved my breast over one shoulder then the other over the other and landed on my ass with a bump and a bump and a bump bump bump bump amidst the explosions of laughter and merriment of the esteemed crowd. With breasts tied in a knot my legs spread like a welcome mat I called in the Spirits and offered them my body . . . but they refused to take it. The crowd howled and laughed as I continued my dance till Amaterasu Omi Kami couldn't stand it any longer and rushed out to see what was what. And thus did laughter win the Sun Goddess from her dark cave and bring light and warmth back into the world.
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."