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