Carrying Medusa’s Head

As Perseus, one of the tasks we are supposed to accomplish in our lives is the slaying of the Gorgon Medusa. Holding the mirror-shield high, walking backwards, we advance in retrospect to lay waste to She whose face turns all living things to stone.

I consider myself truly fortunate to have been given an intimation of  how I will finally bow out of this dimension. The momentarily shocking amounts of blood on the shower cubicle floor on Thursday morning were a warning. Not being able to move out of the house, and losing life’s fluid at a high rate, I had some time to adjust my conceptions and misconceptions of the actual manner of my death.

I feel nothing akin to fear – I’ve visited the liminal spaces of the Otherworld enough times now – and I have, although it’s a corny old line, absolutely no regrets. I would do it all over just as I planned it before I came into this world some 53 years ago. Yes, I would – although it will hardly be necessary now, having gained and lost what I came here to gain and lose this time around.

As the Sun left my death house I stood upon the banks of the river and looked down its flow, anticipating my own addition to that smooth swiftly-running stream. Then I put my feet on the soil of this Earth again, more firmly, with the Gorgon’s head now safely carried in a wallet across my shoulder. Pegasus will arise, among other Beings, from this interaction.

I am not a Hero, and the Medusa is not our enemy, but there is this thing which must be done by each of us, sooner or later.

Pic:Antonio Canova(1757 – 1822), Perseus with the Head of Medusa in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, NY.

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