Things are not as you think

It is May. 

I last wrote here in January.

Needless to say The Invisible Woman has taken a back step as life swirls around, creating distractions, temptations, excuses and obligations. It looms on the periphery, which I acknowledge by cross referencing things I am learning or discovering. Questions remain alert and focused: is this part of Sara's journey? Would Sophia say that? Notes are saved on file on Mary's teachings. But I am no longer immersed. Which also means I am no longer writing.

Sigh

The chaos of my process is becoming unfamiliar, so when I make notes, I generally do so out of context. I look forward for the day when I can reconnect with this growing endocept. But its time is not yet.

There is however, some space in which I have been able to return to my manuscript A New Day. 

I am in the process of my final re-edit. I am hopeful by the end of May I will have forwarded it to one or two publishers I believe may be interested in the work and genre.

Being drawn back into this work has been like revisiting an old friend. The intimacy is reassuring. I am enjoying myself, allowing myself to be courageous in rewriting, rephrasing, cleaning bits up and throwing bits out. A delightful outcome of this process is the discovery of connections between Mary Magdalene and the Minoans. I feel them reach out and poke me, making sure I am aware, that I have taken note. I am constantly surprised how closely related many of the themes are. It is not just one example but a tapestry woven from the colors  of women's stories, history, worship and teachings. Fused with new understandings and interpretations of myths and references to Mystery schools and ancient trade routes.

A line from A New Day taunts me: My story is your story is our story. 

I have recently come across a version of Ariadne's myth that has taken my breath away. It challenges the familiar version, complicating the interpretation we have been fed. It is a version that exudes the power and simplicity of the labyrinth.

In the context of stories being appropriated or altered by occupiers or conquerors, the story of Ariadne and her sacred labyrinth of initiation is one such casualty. It is told through Greek eyes that adore their young hero, Theseus,  while Ariadne is reduced to a maiden, at the very most, princess-daughter of King Minos. 

In the Cretan (Minoan) version, Ariadne was a face of the goddess for the Minoans. She helped followers find their path in life, through initiation and healing. One of Ariadne’s tools was the labyrinth. In spinning the destiny of mortals with her thread, one enters the labyrinth to face the shadow/monster within ones soul. In the Minoan myth, Theseus goes to the Temple and meets a priestess, an incarnate of the Goddess Ariadne. She shows him his destiny and he enters the labyrinth.

Then, as now, initiation involved losing of the self, a symbolic death followed by spiritual rebirth.

The Greek myth wanders somewhat from this path.

Theseus travels to Crete to rescue Athenian youths sacrificed to Crete as tribute to King Minos.  The legend continues with Theseus sneaking into the palace at Knossos and befriending Minos' daughter Ariadne. He obtains her help to navigate the labyrinth - built by Daedalus as a complicated maze to contain the Minotaur, and succeeds in slaying the Minotaur. With Ariadne’s ball of string woven with her hair, he is able to find his way out. 

Theseus then sails to Athens with Ariadne.

There follows myriad versions of why Theseus continues to Athens without Ariadne. All of which place Theseus in the position of protagonist without reference to Ariadne's status. 

The blah blah blah factor.

In reading this myth, there are certain aspects about the Minoans to remember:

• There was no hierarchy under by a King. There was no King
• So-called Palaces were Temples
• There was a cult, Minotaurus, which was the worship of a Sacred Bull, during Mycenaean times

Whilst the remains of a built labyrinth have never been excavated, there are examples of labyrinth mosaic tiles and coins. On these, there is one path leading in into the centre and then out again.

The point is not to puzzle, like a maze. 

Perhaps through Ariadne’s initiation, the purpose of facing the dark side of the divine was not to conquer it, but maybe it is more likely that those who reach the centre of the labyrinth, had the goal of accepting the Minotaur into its rightful place in the human psyche. The balance of light and dark. 

Cultures such as ancient Crete held both sides of the cycle in equal regard.

The centre of the labyrinth is a circle of six roses. In mythology this represents the Crown that Dionysus presented  to Ariadne as a token of his devotion. This crown was crafted by the divine smith Hephaestus. It was gold set with red gems in the shape of roses. Legend states that Dionysus later set this crown out among the stars, where it became the Corona Borealis (Crown of Lights) to remind everyone of his love for Ariadne. 

In Chartres the centre of six roses was explained as significant to Mary Magdalene.