"..This Song, The Wind, Thy Womb."

Embrace the art of letting go

A few days ago, in the night, I was approached by a bear cub.

White and grey he was.
In a state of non-ordinary consciousness which was nevertheless definitely not a dream (I know the difference- but please don’t ask me how, I’m still figuring that out for myself), I found myself by the kitchen door, calling to the dogs, Scylla and Taranis.

I realised then that both dogs were already inside, but from the west side of the house here came this little fellow, putting his paw out to stop me closing the door in his face. Which I was tempted, for a moment, to do. I wasn’t so much afraid as alarmed. White and grey bear cubs are not indigenous to Johannesburg.

I know that Artemis was one of our earliest bear-goddesses, and that She’s had some linkage to my own patron, Hecate, in the past. Beyond that, I had no idea what the bear cub meant, wanted to say, or wanted to show me.

He’s pitched up twice since then, when I’ve been travelling the shamanic landscape. I’m currently exploring a house I discovered nestled into a green hillside. Approached from the top of a ridge,I’ve been rambling through its rooms and passages for about a week. The rooms are becoming furnished now – and twice, bear cub has been with me. That’s in addition to my normal full complement of two deities, two ancestors and two power animals.Quite the crowd.

I have reached down a hand to ruffle his neck fur – coarse and warm – and he has nuzzled his damp snout into my palm. He’s also been quite keen for me to linger in one room of the house in particular – a south-facing long gallery which, so far, contains just a large portrait of the Lord of the Forest on the far wall.

This could be interesting. Let’s see where it goes.

Artemis, please be kind to me.
My own wolves will soon devour me

Lyrics: Aesma Daeva Artemis
Pic:Here

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