Sacrifice and the Empath

I woke up this morning thinking about the idea of sacrifice.  As an English teacher, I know what the word the means.  I can define it, identify it as a topic in literature, or point it out as a lesson to be learned in the myriad of television shows my boys watch.

Recently I heard the story of Chiron.  Chiron was a centaur (half man/half horse) who was born to the Titan Kronos and a nymph.  A weird pairing, I admit, but their subsequent relationship created a different kind of centaur. Chiron was wise and faithful.  He was known as a healer and a speaker of prophecy.  Chiron was immortal, but he was wounded by a poison arrow, and he decided to give his immortality away to Prometheus.  He was the guy who sacrificed his life to steal fire from the Gods to give it to man.  This single act changed humanity forever.  When Zeus found out, he chained Prometheus to a rock and a vulture ate his liver everyday.  His liver then regenerated every night and the torture began anew.  Chiron gave his immortality to Promotheus thus saving him from this fate.  Despite Chiron’s incredible healing powers, he was unable to heal himself and died a bit later.  Zeus was so touched by this act of sacrifice and he turned Chiron into a constellation in the sky.  If you know anything about astrology, you may know which sign your Chiron is in.  Mine is in Aries.  This represents your deepest wound.  The part of you that must heal if you are to understand your soul path and chosen path.  Strangely enough, Chiron in Aries means that I have deep psychological or physical wounds that I hide from others.  I have difficulty believing in myself and my self-worth.  Yep, all of this is definitely true of me.

So what does this all have to do with me?  I am not entirely sure.  Why did I wake up this morning with the story of Chiron and sacrifice coursing through my over-active mind?  No idea.

I do know that my deep wounds are being touched on at this time: my fears of not being a worthy mother or partner.  I am still working on healing these every day, but I feel like it is getting better.  Perhaps, like Chiron, some wounds are too deep and I just have to give into the idea that they cannot be healed in this lifetime, but this thought seems too morose.  Perhaps I am Prometheus, and my good deeds will eventually be rewarded despite the suffering that transgressed before.  Either way, I will think about it in silence and see what happens when I take to the mat.

Trust. Trust. Trust

The Alchemist

Once long ago, a tarot card reader told me I was an Alchemist in a past life.

“You were very powerful and quite cruel,” she said as she turned another card over and looked at the spread with folded hands.

“What is an Alchemist?” I asked, which is a bit weird because I was less hung up on the cruel part and more concerned about what an Alchemist did.

“An Alchemist was a shaman of sorts and believed that he could turn base metals into gold, the most precious metal of all.  Many of them were charlatans, but you were able to do very magical things.  This made you mean and cruel, especially to women.  You are still paying this karmic debt in this lifetime.”  At the time I bowed my head, a bit shamed that now I had even more to regret, more to lament, but now years later I realize that psychics and tarot cards are helpful, but they are only part of the message.

In fact, her telling me I was an Alchemist led me to read The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, and the novel changed my perspective about life.  It is a story about a shepherd boy who falls in love, and dreams one night of finding a treasure.  He decides that he needs to journey out to see the world and find his treasure and then he can marry his true love.  He sets out on a boat across the sea.  During his travels he runs into many fine people and many ruinous ones.  You will have to read the book to find out the ending, but I promise, it is worth it.

The part that I want to highlight today is where a King gives him two stones: Urim and Thummin.  The stay in a pouch he carries by his side.  When he has a good clear question that requires only a “yes” or “no”, he is told to consult the stones.

One day he is told by an old man that when you want to achieve something, all the Universe conspires to help you achieve it. This fills him with hope, but it is quickly lost as terrible things befall him and he finds himself lost and penniless, so he consults the stones.  He asks if that old man’s blessing of the Universe helping him with all his desires is still with him.  He took out one of the stones and the answer was “yes”.  He put the stone back in his pouch and he asked if he were going to finally find his treasure, and as he stuck his hand back in the pouch, both stones fell out.  He remembered what the King had said, “Learn to recognize omens and follow them.”  The boy smiled as he picked up the stones and realized that sometimes one must make his own decision and that trust is as important as divination.

I have asked again during my morning meditation for my soul’s path and my greatest passion and again I am met with silence and a gurgling of the word TRUST.  I felt fear and anxiety rise in my stomach and chest, but it was met with the word TRUST again.  Perhaps the answers we are looking for cannot be given until the time is right.  Though the Universe is constantly a co-creator of our desires it determines the timeline and the way things will progress.  Maybe my job is to ask for what I want and then sit back. TRUST. TRUST. TRUST

A Tribute to Women-Bessie Coleman

For those of you who didn’t catch the first post, I am writing a series of posts that highlight strong women from all different times, races, and walks of life.  

Today’s entry focuses on Bessie Coleman.  Born in 1893 in Alanta,Texas, she was intrigued with the stories she read about the pilots during World War I.  She wanted to earn her pilot’s licence, but the US schools denied her entry because of her race.  This did not deter her.  She learned to speak French and then moved to France to earn her pilot’s licence from the Caudron Brother’s School of Aviation in only seven months.

This woman was almost denied her dream because of her skin color during a time of intense racism, but instead of giving up on her aspirations, she furthered her education and achieved her goal.  Bessie went on to become the first black woman to earn her pilot’s license.  She spent the rest of her life performing aerial stunts for audiences. 

I cannot pretend that I truly understand what it is like to be denied an education because of the color of my skin, and I am amazed at the tenacity of this young woman.  Society was too entrenched in its discrimination and hatred, but Bessie was able to move past this.

There are so many roadblocks in each of our lives, and too often we allow these trials to keep us from what matters most to us.  This is an example of a woman who did not give up.  

Sadly, she died doing what she loved at the age of 33. I imagine that she was at peace with her decisions.