We gathered under a clear sky dotted with fluffy clouds for the last full moon circle of 2013 to honor goddess Isis.
In the center of the circle, Tamara had drawn the Celtic triskelion in yellow and pink chalk on the asphalt behind Coastside Photography.
The circle chanted “Sha la ma, Sha la ma beta” for the four women who chose to come into the world during the darkest time of the year, as Tamara put it, and each woman in the circle blessed the birthday quartet with wishes for the coming year. And then it was the turn of the birthday girls to give back to the circle. Judith read poems dedicated to Vesta (last month’s goddess of the hearth), Peaceful Warrior gave each woman a magical bag with lavender and bay laurel leaf. Lisa Chu sang and Krysta made a wish for the circle.
We moved inside where we called on Isis three times. Tamara told the story of Isis, the Egyptian goddess whose mother was Nut, the sky goddess, and her father, Geb, the earth god. Isis married her brother Osiris, a kind soul who was killed by their jealous brother Seth. Isis cried so hard that she flooded the river Nile. Eventually, she found and brought together all the dismembered pieces of her husband together and breathed life into him.
The story of this goddess of reincarnation led us right into a past life regression meditation led by Dr. Lisa Chu, who used sound to bring us to a deeper level of consciousness. After the meditation, each woman spoke of her experience in turn.
We thanked those unseen who were with us, chanted om three times, gave a hug to the sister to our left and then to the sister to our right. After closing the circle., we all went out to the balcony to call the full moon. Hail Isis.
By Judith Rosenberg
Thank you Judith for your clear writing and for the beautiful Vesta poem. Here’s Judith’s poem.
By Judith Rosenberg
We have no hearths, only separate screens
and gourmet kitchens that no one cooks in.
Our fireplaces are but for show.
Our central heating has no center.
The sacred mystery of fire, unseen,
How soon forgotten
As we sit in house warmed by atoms split
and watch electrons dance.
She was the oldest sister of the Olympian Twelve,
Promised the best offerings, the first whiffs of charred flesh.
She was feared, that Fire Maiden,
Whose anger swept down the mountainside as molten lava.
She was too terrible to portray,
Save contained in the small hearth fire
Carried from mother to daughter,
From homeland to colony,
From one Olympic host city to the next.
Hail Vesta, Goddess of the Eternal Flame.