When I was a child I was obsessed with the myth of Persephone’s descent. I read all the sanitized versions, of course, and so came to associate Her descent with my own — having to visit my abusive father for access weekends and, later, seasons. (Family law is mainly concerned with working around the needs and wishes of children, and there’s no justice in it.)
As I became older, I came to associate Her myth — and other descent-to-the-underworld myths — with depression, and not being scared of the underworld/depression, because in a way it’s a comfort zone.
Today, I associate Her myth with something else.
In Persephone’s descent She leaves the home of Her mother, Demeter. And while She does come back later on, She is forever changed. She has become something, someone else. This is why She is the goddess of transformation.
Becoming your own person hurts. Going forth and separating yourself from the domain of your parents, learning how to stand on your own two feet — it’s painful. It’s a rite of passage, an ordeal.
It hurts especially when your parents keep hurting you.
I’m tired of being hurt by my abusive father. Of desperately clinging to a relationship that is not worth my time nor energy.
Tonight, when I get home from my mom’s place, I will give an offering to Persephone, and ask Her for Her strength in separating myself from the domain of my father. I will ask Her to help me transform myself into someone who doesn’t need his love or validation; someone who doesn’t care what he thinks anymore.
This isn’t going to happen overnight. I know this. I also know, now, why I’ve been obsessed with Her for all these years; why She’s so long been one of my favourite goddesses; why I needed to see Her at Spring Mysteries Fest.
She’s just been waiting for me to realize this.
Tonight, I begin cleansing myself from the pain that my father has brought me for 26 years.
‘Tis thine in earth’s profundities to dwell, fast by the wide and dismal gates of hell:
Zeus’ holy offspring, of a beauteous mien, fatal, with lovely locks, infernal queen:
Source of the furies, whose blest frame proceeds from Zeus’ ineffable and secret seeds
Visiting this seed of you. The perfect potential. in my opinion is a gateway to a comprehension beyond what is thought of as belief. It is a knowing that cannot be denied. And sometimes, I think for strong people, admitting that beauty and perfection is very difficult. Like breaking down when someone hugs you out of love times a million. So hard. Especially when shitty gardeners get first go at the sewing. From the very start the perfect seed only seeks to grow and from that very start, in some cases, it is a constant battle to do so. And that unjust and unfair battle is,to me, the root and cause and breeder of all doubt. It is the opposite of faith.
So I think your cleansing with faith is apropos and it will work. Faith can be a sickle too, and it can cut the vines that continuously impede my growth and suffocate. There is much work to do in tending such a seed. Cleaning, weeding, pest control, over extending metaphor control :D. But it is very worth the work to tend such a perfect and beautiful potential.
Sorry for the ramble.
I love your ramble, and would like to share part of it as a Quote of the Day post. 🙂
Well, I love your bravery. So there. Share whatever you like.
Now I have missed some posts! I must go up to read!
That’s one of the lessons she wants me to learn from her as well – it’s good to see someone else on the same path with her, even if I wish nobody had that kind of pain to wash away.
Good luck. I hope the work goes well.
Thanks Liadine.
I have the same feelings when I learn that people have had similar experiences to mine. Happiness that I’m not alone; sadness that others have had that sort of pain.