Meeting With The Goddess

"In the Tantric books of medieval and modern India the abode
of the goddess is called Mani-dvipa, "The Island of Jewels." Her couch-and-throne is there, in a grove of wish-fulfilling trees.
The beaches of the isle are of golden sands. They are laved by
the still waters of the ocean of the nectar of immortality. The
goddess is red with the fire of life; the earth, the solar system,
the galaxies of far-extending space, all swell within her womb.
For she is the world creatrix, ever mother, ever virgin. She encompasses
the encompassing, nourishes the nourishing, and is
the life of everything that lives.

She is also the death of everything that dies. The whole round
of existence is accomplished within her sway, from birth,
through adolescence, maturity, and senescence, to the grave. She
is the womb and the tomb: the sow that eats her farrow. Thus
she unites the "good" and the "bad," exhibiting the two modes
of the remembered mother, not as personal only, but as universal.
The devotee is expected to contemplate the two with equal
equanimity. Through this exercise his spirit is purged of its infantile,
inappropriate sentimentalities and resentments, and his
mind opened to the inscrutable presence which exists, not primarily
as "good" and "bad" with respect to his childlike human
convenience, his weal and woe, but as the law and image of the
nature of being.

The great Hindu mystic of the last century, Ramakrishna
(1836-1886), was a priest in a temple newly erected to the Cosmic
Mother at Dakshineswar, a suburb of Calcutta. The temple
image displayed the divinity in her two aspects simultaneously,
the terrible and the benign. Her four arms exhibited the symbols
of her universal power: the upper left hand brandishing a bloody
saber, the lower gripping by the hair a severed human head; the
upper right was lifted in the "fear not" gesture, the lower extended
in bestowal of boons. As necklace she wore a garland of
human heads; her kilt was a girdle of human arms; her long
tongue was out to lick blood. She was Cosmic Power, the totality
of the universe, the harmonization of all the pairs of opposites,
combining wonderfully the terror of absolute destruction
with an impersonal yet motherly reassurance. As change, the
river of time, the fluidity of life, the goddess at once creates, preserves,
and destroys. Her name is Kali, the Black One; her title:
The Ferry across the Ocean of Existence.

Only geniuses capable of the highest realization can support
the full revelation of the sublimity of this goddess. For lesser
men she reduces her effulgence and permits herself to appear in
forms concordant with their undeveloped powers. Fully to behold
her would be a terrible accident for any person not spiritually
prepared: as witness the unlucky case of the lusty young
buck Actaeon. No saint was he, but a sportsman unprepared for
the revelation of the form that must be beheld without the normal
human (i.e., infantile) over- and undertones of desire, surprise,
and fear.

Woman, in the picture language of mythology, represents the
totality of what can be known. The hero is the one who comes to
know. As he progresses in the slow initiation which is life, the
form of the goddess undergoes for him a series of transfigurations:
she can never be greater than himself, though she can always
promise more than he is yet capable of comprehending.
She lures, she guides, she bids him burst his fetters. And if he
can match her import, the two, the knower and the known, will
be released from every limitation. Woman is the guide to the
sublime acme of sensuous adventure. By deficient eyes she is
reduced to inferior states; by the evil eye of ignorance she is
spellbound to banality and ugliness. But she is redeemed by the
eyes of understanding. The hero who can take her as she is,
without undue commotion but with the kindness and assurance
she requires, is potentially the king, the incarnate god, of her
created world.

The meeting with the Goddess who is incarnate in every woman is the final test of the talent of the hero to win the boon of love which is life itself enjoyed as the encasement of eternity. And when the adventurer in this context is not a youth but a maid, she is the one who by her qualities or her beauty or her yearning is fit to become the consort of an immortal. Then the heavenly husband descends and conducts her to his bed whether she will or no. And if she has shunned him the scales fall from her eyes and she sees the god he so verily is and if she has sought him her desire finds its peace."

- Joseph Campbell, The Hero With the Thousand Faces

Phaethon Phaethon
31-35, M
2 Responses Dec 14, 2012

I really liked reading this thread. Especially when you say Goddess is both "the womb and the tomb".

She is both formed and unformed Substance, the only True Absolute Reality that manifests as Form by the Unmanifested God-Mind's Will. Form is their Child, and it perpetuates by eating itself. "Life lives on Life..."

Thank you.

That is great. It was really special to read. The goddess sound like a interesting being. Joseph Campbell write good tales.

You are the Goddess, Barlong. The story is yours. Thats the point. (wink)

... *red cheeks*
(ear twitching)
I am no goddess (nervous laugh)

Give it time. (smiles)

Don't panic lady, he means in all lady there is a hidden godess...

I don't know why i got an alert about this comment... I thaught you were replying to my own comment... Lol thats weird

Sometimes the ghosts or angels of ep play tricks like that

The myth is universal, that is what Campbell is stressing. But people are complex things and we find affinity at different times in our lives with different archetypal forces (myths). We change. The end result, however, Barlong... will be a Goddess.

That's right... all ladies are goddesses. Though... I don't think I wish that title even if girls are goddesses. ^_^

Oh btw, theSpinxess, meet Barlong. Barlong this is theSpinxess.

(laughs nervously)

Pleasure to meet you miss Spinxess.

I got an alert when phaeton replied to your comment.. Like if it was my comment.. That's weird...
Strange things happends around sphinxs... Take phaeton... Nice little sphinx ;-)


It's a funny happening. :D
Nice little sphinx indeed. But he is cuter as a cat. :3

Its funny really, because I never even pretended to be a cat until I came to EP, rofl. Its just a way of breaking the ice but you guys make me laugh and its beginning to stick now. >.<

Your avatar looks like a sphinx.. Yet you pretend to be a cat...
My avatar is a cat and my name a sphinx.. But who are we all really??? ROFL

We are who we chose to be :3

Im so confused now aren't spinxes cats? In some way? lol

Yes its also a race of living cats... Cats without fur... OMG like you my kitty jedi

I think sometimes I am doomed to perpetual blushing... I guess its not a bad fate. -_-; There could be worse.

I like that last one mephisto
Or a little bit of the two?

"We cannot change the course of the wind but we can direct our sails."

Or... "when wind go against you, take up your oars and down the sails, so you can go wherever you feel is right"

Somebody light a doobie and pass it around, this is good stuff. haha

Doing it right now (lights up green stuff from delphi and passes it to phaeton)

Banshee my fiery amazon likes to say "only dead fish always follow the waves"

Indeed, I can feel the threads of fate myself. As long as you don't grasp to tightly the instrument the music will pass right through you to all the world. What a wonderful song.

Banshee said something meaningful? I try to listen but theres so much yelling its hard sometimes. haha. I like watching her burn the world down though. You can't help but smile.

Im an anarchist, id rather watch her burn the world down. Meow.

While the myths we all use have no concordant manifestation on the physical plane the archetypal energies "some" draw from are very symbolic. I try to listen with an inner ear and hear the words behind the words. What is the meaning of a flower? To be itself and offer to the world its beauty. Do we have to try to make sense of it to appreciate its beauty? Just enter deeply and lovingly into its presence to see the message it offers to the world. I have to kneel to her so I can sustain myself in her flames. I like how she cuts away at peoples egos and illusions. Her voice is a power to me, a mantle of sorts that she wields like a flaming sword. Her name is fitting.

Wow.. If only she would read this... I can only dream of having a cat say such things to me ;-)

But im not... a... cat. (sigh)

OK.. I have withheld my inquiry out the fear of looking like a noob but I have to ask... what is up with the "cat thing" people talk about? Lmao.

(hides under a rock)

i am ... just... totally... a cat person... I just... adore cat!!!
must be my egyptian side
i cannot live without cats
i always been surrounded by cats

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