A Creation Birthing Story
Golden hands hold the cup,
offered to one and to all for the fulfillment of dreams:
Drink deeply of the Earth and of embodiment!
Mistakes made willingly honour the ferment.
All the green world dances in my cycles shall you yet
hold back in anger and regret?
Drink deep! You have never once been separate,
child of mine.
Child of time… dream born into water and carbon and the twinkling of an eye.
The Story Begins…
In the beginning there was a space without time. Darkness.
Nothingness you call it, I believe.
And then I woke up and with My eyes still closed I stretched.
There was nothingness and There was Me.
Must have been the dream that woke Me.
I smile, touch My belly with My hand, remembering how it felt to be big with dream: All feet and elbows in my innards,
urgent with desire to be out.
I must be near time. No chance of sleeping further.
A deep breath, and I opened My eyes. And there was light.
I rose, and moved My body in the dance of the Creator,
spilling light in milky splashes across the void as I danced.
And when I had finished dancing I sat down.
The contractions came eventually, and the labour to give birth to My first child began.
It was a difficult labour.
I had no idea what to expect. There were no precedents.
I might have regretted this rash dreaming… so I laboured and danced the dance of the woman giving birth as I yelled.
As I tell this, I am again aware of the intensity of sensation, an opening into greater depths, coming more awake to the power of the child/dream within Me struggling to take on form.
My other Self. Myself. Other.
And so the Earth was born into a puddle of stars. Born clothed in the waters of gestation.
I held the child in My arms: sweet fruit of My labour.
Nothingness. Me. And My child. I was already deeply in love.
And she looked up at me and named me “Sun”. We rested together a while.
Then it came time to deliver the Moon.
It came away easily, parting from Me to cleave to the child.
Corded together to climb the cliffs of existence in greater safety.
Placental moon, Earth’s comforter, playmate, companion, counsellor, lover, Beloved One.
And My heart watched as the Earth danced the Dawn of Time, drunk on the newness of autonomy.
And then she was wanting to go.
So I cloaked My child in clouds of desire and fear, and put her into her own hands.
Deep in her oceans the dream went on. And in time, My daughter brought birth to children of her own.
Life was conceived in the water, and crawled out onto the land. Plant and animal, people and trees, each continuing the dream. The generations dreaming together. The spirit children of My grandchildren leaping towards home, dreaming of the beginning.
And in the beginning, Me.
(c) Catherine Ishara de Garis, 1994