I've been wrestling recently with how to explain that I'm now working seriously with a "dark goddess" as part of my spirituality. It can be tough enough to describe Paganism in a way that people a) take seriously and b) don't get scared by -- but talking about working with an underworld goddess, and one with something of a bad reputation at that, doesn't make it any easier.
Not coincidentally, I've run across some discussions about bdsm recently that focus on the "dark" aspects as part of the attraction. Some people engage in bdsm because they delight in the sense of transgression. They like the thought that they're doing something "bad".
That's never been my kink.
What suddenly became clear to me during a discussion on this topic in another forum, is that I've contributed to my own frustration by allowing myself simply accept the whole "dark/light" dichotomy in the first place. Again, it's a weakness of the Queen of Swords archetype: a tendency to see or analyze things as an either/or model.
( The rest behind a cut, because it might get long and rambly, and some of you might not want to follow this train of thought. )
And maybe this is where things come full circle for me. As a priestess of a "dark goddess" part of my work is to be familiar with both positive and negative darkness and able to work in and with both. Ereshkigal is a mistress of the descent. She presides over the ordeals which overtake us -- whether voluntarily or otherwise -- and helps us transform them into growth experiences, to gain strength and wisdom from them. She is a guardian of boundaries (in contrast with Inanna, who transgresses boundaries) and her stories illustrate the power of righteous rage when she is violated.
I aspire to be an ordeal mistress, someone who can facilitate rituals which promote transformation, healing, and/or transcendence in the participant(s) through extremes of sensation and challenge. I want to be able to help a person move something they have kept in darkness into the light, whether that is the pain and shame of past injuries, or their own hidden strength and power -- or both, or more. (I also want to do this outside the context of ritual ordeals.)
Darkness can be the depths of the compost pile where things break down, ferment, and explode into new life. Darkness can be the quiet room where contemplation leads to peace. Darkness can be the apophatic perception of the Divine.
Darkness can be the shadows which scare us, our own personal monsters, which we have to face in order to claim their power.
To say "dark bad, light good" is to miss -- and misunderstand -- the richness of possibility for what can be found in the darkness.
Not coincidentally, I've run across some discussions about bdsm recently that focus on the "dark" aspects as part of the attraction. Some people engage in bdsm because they delight in the sense of transgression. They like the thought that they're doing something "bad".
That's never been my kink.
What suddenly became clear to me during a discussion on this topic in another forum, is that I've contributed to my own frustration by allowing myself simply accept the whole "dark/light" dichotomy in the first place. Again, it's a weakness of the Queen of Swords archetype: a tendency to see or analyze things as an either/or model.
( The rest behind a cut, because it might get long and rambly, and some of you might not want to follow this train of thought. )
And maybe this is where things come full circle for me. As a priestess of a "dark goddess" part of my work is to be familiar with both positive and negative darkness and able to work in and with both. Ereshkigal is a mistress of the descent. She presides over the ordeals which overtake us -- whether voluntarily or otherwise -- and helps us transform them into growth experiences, to gain strength and wisdom from them. She is a guardian of boundaries (in contrast with Inanna, who transgresses boundaries) and her stories illustrate the power of righteous rage when she is violated.
I aspire to be an ordeal mistress, someone who can facilitate rituals which promote transformation, healing, and/or transcendence in the participant(s) through extremes of sensation and challenge. I want to be able to help a person move something they have kept in darkness into the light, whether that is the pain and shame of past injuries, or their own hidden strength and power -- or both, or more. (I also want to do this outside the context of ritual ordeals.)
Darkness can be the depths of the compost pile where things break down, ferment, and explode into new life. Darkness can be the quiet room where contemplation leads to peace. Darkness can be the apophatic perception of the Divine.
Darkness can be the shadows which scare us, our own personal monsters, which we have to face in order to claim their power.
To say "dark bad, light good" is to miss -- and misunderstand -- the richness of possibility for what can be found in the darkness.