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~ January
Supplemental ~
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Director's
MessageReverend Xia
With each turn of the Wheel of the Year, we
open ourselves to the inherent lessons offered
by the cycles of nature; the changing seasons
representing a psychological "map of
consciousness" facilitating human growth. Myth
and ritual contain the framework for our growth
and personal transformation, rites of passage,
healing, empowerment, and manifestation.
In 2012 we embraced Change as our yearly
theme. As Pagans, our teachings are found in
nature, the seasons, cycles, and the cosmos . .
. all of which are in a constant state of flux.
In nature we find the reflection/lessons for how
to grow, live consciously, and create the life
we deserve. To that end we don't need to
emphasize the need, or desire, for change. It is
a given. We understand the clarion call of life
for change, transformation, shape-shifting.
That's the journey we shared ritually and
mythically in 2012 . . . lessons on how change
comes, how we can approach and embrace change .
. . even consciously choosing what changes we
want to make . . . the ways that change can be
approached, embraced, and integrated into our
lives.
That critical year of change prepared us for
the NEW DIRECTIONS coming in 2013. Hopefully, we
have prepared ourselves, individually, and as a
community, and done both the inner work as well
as the outer work in preparing the foundation
for new possibilities and new growth in the
months ahead.
As the Founder and Director of Temple of the
Goddess, I can personally testify to the changes
of 2012. While writing our Autumn myth of
Ganesha, I was cracked open in unexpected ways.
Since then the changes of 2012 have been
morphing into NEW DIRECTIONS for me and the
temple. It is now time to grow our beloved
temple to the next evolution of its own life
cycle, as nonprofits must do, or inevitably,
deteriorate. The vision has always been to
create a nonprofit Pagan church that will be
here for many, many generations to come.
After months of prayer, visioning, and
looking to a future of NEW DIRECTIONS, it is
time for me to step away somewhat from the Los
Angeles temple activities and begin work on
growing the organization on a larger scale with
much more interfaith work and other temple
programs, such as our affiliate program,
GAIA-the school and credentialing arm of the
temple, a prison ministry, as well as Nine Muses
Arts. In order to do these additional programs
I need to pass on a few of the many
proverbial hats I've been wearing this past
decade to some of the strong leadership pillars
of the temple.
I am proud to share with you a few changes
made as we move into this year of NEW
DIRECTIONS. I will remain in my role as Director
of Temple of the Goddess, and President of the
board, overseeing all aspects of the
organization. However, this incoming cadre of
leaders in key director/management positions
will free me to grow us in many other ways. The
new staff will report back to me and consult
with me as needed. Pythia will remain in her
much-needed role as Secretary and Treasurer and
often Temple Shopper. :)
Kamala will be stepping into the key
leadership role of Director of Religious
Services. She will be responsible for directing
and coordinating all rituals, our Sabbats as
they stand now, as well as the monthly moon
circles. Working closely with our talented and
gifted ritual planning committee, Kamala will
guide the Sabbat rituals as producer and
director. Additionally, Kamala and I will work
towards offering smaller rituals for the other
Sabbats and growing all aspects of the Mythic
Players, as well.
In addition to her work as Music and Choir
Director, Ananda is now taking on the key
leadership role of Director of Clergy Services
and Ministerial Development. With her years as a
teaching administrator as well as years of
service as a ritualist and decades of Pagan and
Goddess studies, Ananda will be a wonderful
guide for growing the clergy with a two-pronged
approach. Ministerial development with studies
and refinement of our current clergy members as
well as extending our clergy services by opening
doors in the Los Angeles area in hospitals and
healing centers who need Pagan clergy. Her work
leading groups around the country these past
years makes her a great fit for interfacing with
hospital and funeral administrators.
As Co-Directors of Community Outreach, Briana
and Nona, will be growing the temple, both
within and without, in this key leadership role.
Briana has become an important part of the
temple and her openness, enthusiasm, and belief
in the temple principles as well as her love for
the temple community makes her the perfect
candidate for this position. Nona, while
somewhat new with us in time, feels like she's
been a part of us forever. Her natural
leadership abilities will bring so much to the
temple in the key role of growing and coalescing
our community as well.
The story continues . . . when we step out,
trust, and commit to change, the universe
affirms our courage and reflects back to us the
New Direction we are meant to take. Within days
of announcing these big changes to the Board of
Directors in early December, a small cadre of us
went on a site visit to the Church of Truth: A
Center for Awakening Consciousness in Pasadena
as a possible location for our monthly Moon
Circles in 2013. While there, Rev. Donna asked
us to participate in an interfaith activity, the
Pasadena Interfaith Walk for Peace, which will
take place in Feb and March. The event begins
with a month-long shoe drive and ending in a day
of walking for Peace on March 3rd. I was asked
to participate on the planning committee with a
council of interfaith clergy and TOG will be
very involved in the closing ceremony for the
Peace Walk. There could not have been a more
potent confirmation of my decision to delegate
some of my temple responsibilities and expand
our work in larger venues. See below for more
information on the temple's involvement in the
Pasadena Interfaith Walk for Peace.
But wait, there's more NEW DIRECTIONS . . .
in early January we were trying to set the dates
for our 2013 rituals at Neighborhood Church with
some difficulty. We re-visited the Center for
Awakening Consciousness with the purpose of
moving our yearly Sabbats there. While the
sanctuary is quite different than we were used
to, we feel our ritual theatre template can
easily be adapted to the new space and look
forward to offering all 2013 Sabbats at this new
location.
The changes we initiated in 2012 are growing
into wonderful, exciting NEW DIRECTIONS for
Temple of the Goddess. I think we have found a
home at the Church of Truth in a way we could
never quite call home at Neighborhood Church.
They already consider us a part of their
community which is very lovely. I think we can
truly grow TOG to a wonderful new level in this
nurturing space and community.
As we move into this year of NEW DIRECTIONS,
the Year of the Snake, we have the opportunity
to immerse ourselves deeply into the journey,
the mythic lessons ahead. As we do so, we make
of ourselves, our consciousness, an altar for
personal growth . . . and the beauty of it is we
do this through the gift of art and community.
Love and Blessings, Xia
Spotlight on New Director of Religious
Services
Rev.
Kamala
"But once this subject catches you, there
is such a feeling, from one or another of these
traditions, of a deep, rich, life-vivifying
sort that you don't want to give it up." --
Joseph Campbell, p. 4, The Power of Myth
This current new direction of my spiritual
life actually began when I was 8 years old. I
joined the local Presbyterian Church because it
was the closest church to my home. I had
attended some services at various churches and
temples during sleep-overs with my friends, and
I loved the theatricality and spectacle of their
rituals. On Christmas and Easter, I relished
going with my friends' families to their
pageants and holiday productions, and I missed
this in my everyday life, so asked my parents if
we could join a church. This was a surprise to
them, because they were both atheists who had
each given up on religion in disgust, having
found the pretense, irrationality, and bigotry
of the evangelical communities in which they had
grown up, more than they could stomach. But they
were progressive parents who honored their kids'
feelings and needs, and so each Sunday, despite
their better judgment, they dropped me off,
sometimes with my brother and sister, at the
little church just a couple of blocks from our
elementary school.
My parents would come to the church events I
participated in. They watched us singing in the
Easter Sunrise Service at the Hollywood Bowl and
in the chorus during the Christmas pageant
reenactment of Joseph and Mary's search for a
safe haven to birth their son, a story that
always brought me to tears. To their credit, my
parents, despite their disdain for the
institution, never showed any contempt, or
indicated that there was anything silly or wrong
with my going to church. I reveled in these
holiday rituals, and the seasons came alive for
me. Joining with my newfound community in their
Sunday school rituals each week gave me a sense
of belonging and hinted to me of the power and
wonder of the presence of the Numinous and
Divine.
Then, one Sunday, I came face to face with
the narrow-mindedness that my parents had fled
from. I had come to really admire Jesus and his
sacrifice and generosity, and so listened
intently as the Sunday school teacher began to
expound on the betrayal of Judas. But I was
confused, and so questioned her, "If it was
God's will to sacrifice Jesus, then mustn't
Judas's betrayal have been a part of His plan,
and so if Judas was only doing God's will, how
could he be evil?" I was sincere, I just wanted
to understand these interesting new ideas, but
to my Sunday school teacher, I was some sort of
miniature apostate. She became stern, and told
me that anyone who did not accept Jesus as their
savior would be condemned to hell. This image of
hell sent a chill down my spine and I knew that
she couldn't be exactly right. I knew of people
who didn't believe in Jesus, like one of my
father's heroes, Mohandas Gandhi, who I had
always thought was just as admirable as Jesus,
and I could not imagine any god who would send
such a man to hell. But I was an obedient and
compliant child (typical first-born I guess) so
I continued to listen with only an uneasy
wondering. Then she went too far, claiming that
since my parents did not believe and did not
come to church, that they too were bound for
eternal suffering and punishment in hell. I
asked politely with tears welling up in my eyes
how that could be true, my parents were good
people and how was it possible that they were
going to hell. She repeated that that was how it
was. Then I yelled, "No, now you're wrong. That
can't be true." and ran out of the church, never
to return.
It was pretty clear to me that the Christian
Church was not for me, it just didn't make any
sense, but I could not forget the peace and
pleasure I felt in those beautiful spaces with
their rituals and mysteries. That brief taste of
my own internal calling to the Divine was the
beginning of a lifelong search that has
ultimately led me to Temple of the Goddess.
This quest has taken me many wonderful
places. Knowing how transformational film and
television had been in my life, how movies like
Lost Horizon the Snake Pit, and
Of Mice and Men had so formed my own ethos
and worldview, I understood the sacred role of
story and theater, and so became an actor and
tried to make a living in Hollywood. I studied
Zen Buddhism and learned to meditate, practiced
yoga, Tai Chi, and even massage therapy. I found
wisdom in almost all of these, and continued to
grow and evolve, passing through many systems.
Metaphysics and mysticism filled me with delight
and mystery, but like acting, metaphysics never
really felt like home. Good strong tools, yes,
many that I still use today, but not really my
heart's home.
Even while often stumbling along, I had
learned to follow and to trust, and found myself
following a shamanic path. The practice of Core
Shamanism I was following was often taught to
Indigenous people who had lost connection to
their traditional practices, and frequently led
them to recover many of their lost traditions
and rituals. This is just what happened to me;
doors opened which led me home to my own
shamanic roots in European paganism and
witchcraft. I began to make connections with
groups doing rituals based on the Wheel of the
Year, celebrating the seasons and the journey of
our sun around our earth.
I sensed in these nature-based rituals a
garden gate to the spiritual home I had been
seeking. From my earliest memories I recalled a
deep reverence for nature. As a native
Californian I had always resonated with the
chaparral of Southern California, and spent as
much time as I could in the fragrant hills and
valleys of this beautiful state. I could feel a
deep and inescapable connection to this scrubby
land that my ancestors had settled in 1848, 100
years before I was born, and I moved to Topanga
Canyon, where I could feel that I was finally
coming home.
In this Pagan community I found the Woman's
Mystery of the Ancient Future Sisterhood and
began a dance practice called the Tantric Dance
of Feminine Power. This very somatic practice
and the priestess training I received there, led
me to the threshold of the door to my heart's
home, where I could feel the earth solid beneath
my feet with the wind blowing in my ears as my
tears began to wash me clean. But even with my
growing wisdom fueled now by the passionate fire
of my desire burning bright, I continued to feel
the need for community, for others with whom to
share my experiences and for a ritual tradition
based broadly and openly in all our myths and
stories, ancient and modern.
The Fall ritual of 2005 was the first I
attended at Temple of the Goddess and was,
appropriately, the harvest of all the fruits I
had gathered on my long path. As I sat in the
audience filled with deep gratitude and with
tears running down my cheeks, I knew I had
finally opened that door to my heart's home,
where I felt complete and at ease. So much so
that the very next ritual offered by the Temple,
I took a role as a facilitator.
Since then, my reverence for and deep belief
in the power of myth, storytelling, and ritual
has grown and deepened. The power of myth drew
me to Pacifica Graduate Institute where I
steeped myself in depth psychology, finally
receiving a MA in Counseling Psychology. The
course work at Pacifica concretized the numinous
pleasure I had felt ever since I was a little
girl who sat mesmerized by stories like the
fairytale of "The Little Match Girl", the myth
"Demeter and Persephone", or the TV play "Amahl
and the Night Visitor".
Once again I feel the wonder and awe of that
little girl. In the thrall of the stories and
the power of shared community rituals, I am
continuing my journey in the role of Ritual
Director of Temple of the Goddess. With great
excitement I begin this new direction and am in
such gratitude that I have been given this
opportunity to serve in a way that fills me with
such creative energy, compassion, and devotion.
For further study: Campbell. (1988). The
Power of Myth. New York, NY; Doubleday.
|
Caddick - Cleary Wedding
by Jeanne (Pythia) Leiter
Continued. . . Instead of
the usual best men and bridesmaids, the couple chose
to include their friends in the ritual in their own
particular Pagan way. Beautiful harp music by
Margaret Klemm put everyone in a dreamy, romantic
mood.
Family from both sides processed
in, looking oh so happy and proud. After they were
seated, the Pagan ritual began in earnest. Ruth Ann
Anderson, CandyJo Dahlstrom, Briana Murray, and
Lianna Nakashima carried in torches, artistically
constructed by Ruth Ann Anderson, again one for each
of the directions. It took three people to carry in
the large Lucina puppet made by Christine Papalexis
and assisted by Roberta Farrington and Lianna
Nakashima. Lucina had two attendants, four-year-old
Andrew and eight-year-old Essence who dropped rose
petals for the Goddess Lucina to walk upon. Then the
Lucina puppet was placed to the side to oversee the
solemnization of Ananda’s and Donar’s union.
Chelsea
Bagnard read This Is the Dream by Olav Hauge.
This is the dream we carry through the world
that something fantastic will happen
that is has to happen
that time will open by itself
that doors shall open by themselves
that the heart will find itself open
that mountain springs will jump up
that the dream will open by itself
that we one early morning
will slip into a harbor
that we have never known.
You Two Are One Now by Johann Wolfgang von
Goethe was read by Ricka Cleary. L ‘Dor Vador
was sung by Judith Bohlen, and the reading of same
was done by Rhoda Orenstein. After a homily, Joe
Bourdet and Amy Blashke had most of the audience in
heartfelt tears when they sang Never My Love.
Later, Ananda’s mother, Judy Bohlen, sang. With two
musicians getting married amidst many musical
friends, it was no surprise that it was a very
musical evening.
A very close friend of the couple solemnized the
union. Reverend Xia Judy Tatum, founder and director
of Temple of the Goddess, officiated at the wedding.
Reverend Xia and the couple moved into each
direction, beginning in the East and moving
clockwise through the rest of the three directions.
The consecration, expression of intent, exchange of
vows and rings, pronouncement were all performed in
the middle, surrounded by family and friends. At
each directional altar beautifully and sacredly made
by Kathleen Forrest, the couple lit a candle. After
giving their personal vows to each other and placing
a ring (a symbol of love without end) on each others
fingers, Reverend Xia pronounced them husband and
wife.
Friends and family blessed the couple with a Call
and Response written by Reverend Xia.
Priestess: We give you the blessings
of East,
breath of new beginnings.
People: May
the winds bring you inspiration and joy.
Priestess: We give you the blessings
of South,
warmth and creativity.
People: May
the flame of passion fill your hearts.
Priestess: We give you the blessings
of West,
flowing, adapting, and cleansing.
People: May
the healing waters of emotion be yours.
Priestess: We give you the blessing
of North,
constant, stable, and binding.
People: May
the Earth comfort and sustain you.
Priestess: We give you the blessing
of Spirit,
limitless, filled with possibilities.
People: May
the mystery of the Divine guide you.
All:
Blessed Be.
The frosting on the wedding cake came after the
benediction with the song, Blessing, sung by
Temple of the Goddess Choir.
After the ceremony, helpers moved the more than
150 chairs and four altars and replaced them with
tables and chairs for a feast. And a feast it was.
The buffet, catered by Chile Addiction, Stonefire
Grill, helped by Lianna Nakashima and Roberta
Farrington, fed all attendees, with food left over
which fed a Temple get-together the following
weekend. Services were supplied by Stonefire Grill
and Call the Shots. The music, both with a DJ and
live–Ananda graced us with a song–kept the space
vibrating until late in the evening.
It was a magical Pagan night, demonstrating love
between Ananda and Donar. Love for the Couple of the
Night was shown by all the attendees coming to
witness this sacred occasion, and especially by all
the volunteer movers and shakers who created the
wonderland, and those behind the scenes who caused
the event to coalesce and move smoothly into
history.
We witnessed a sacred union that night. A new
beginning for the Caddick-Cleary marriage path. May
they move through the dark of Winter looking forward
to a bright, beautiful Spring. . .together.
Blessed Be Ananda and Donar
(Wedding photo: Maureen Blaine)
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|
You are sitting
around a fire after a hard day of work. The air cools and the sun
sets, the frogs and crickets begin singing as the sky darkens.
Suddenly the person you have been eagerly awaiting leaps to the
center of the circle. Your Shaman begins her story. You have heard
the story a hundred times, but the antics of the animals and the
wisdom in the story never fail to give you pleasure. As she weaves
her tale, the knowledge that every thing is alive, carrying its own
power and wisdom, soothes your soul.
Let
us join together, in this virtual circle, and share these Animal
Tales. Let us once again feel how the stories connect us to the
natural world and remind us that we are all part of a vast Circle of
Life. Listen now as the Shaman's animal stories whisper tales of
that power and wisdom in your ear.
Tonight as we move into a
new year, it is a Native American legend, "Wolf and Boy". For some the Big
Bad Wolf is the relentless hunter that will swallow us whole, but wolf is
the spirit that runs wild through the winter forest, howling at the moon
following its own inner guide, and finding a new direction. As you listen to
the story imagine your own journey through the dark forest to find your own
inner howling and longing.
Wolf and Boy
Once upon a time, there was a wolf, and this wolf was all alone. All of
the other wolves had been caught or killed or driven off. But this last
wolf, he stayed. And he did all of the usual wolfish things. He lived in a
cave high up in the hills. He raided the occasional flock for a stray sheep.
He also would appear from time to time late in the evening on a trail
from the fields running down to the village to frighten some milk maid or
herds boy coming home a little too late from the watch. And this gave rise
to the stories of great, gnarled, bloody teeth and wet, long, lolling tongue
and fiery, red, hungry eyes...the wolf had quite a reputation in the
village.
But that was not the worst of it. The most horrible thing of all, the
thing that froze the souls of the old men, and caused the red faces of the
young people to blanch, and the heads of the children to go deep under bed
covers at night was what the wolf would do from time to time, in the cold
crackling air of the frosty silver moon, high on the stark peak of the stony
mountain near the village. He would sit up there and howl, howl with the
sound of a thousand midnights down in a murky bog. Those who heard it swore
it was a sound that only a beast could make whose soul was tortured and lost
forever. And it chilled to the marrow everyone who heard it...everyone, that
is, except one person.
For living in the village was a boy who had lived there all of his life.
And yet no one really knew this boy. I mean, he spoke to folks, and they
spoke to him. But no one really understood him or cared to. Even his parents
were at a loss to understand his ways and his thoughts. So they mostly
humored him. And the boy would lie awake in his bed at night wondering about
his life and why he felt so lost among the villagers. And sometimes he would
cry or sometimes he would be angry. But when he heard the call of the wolf
on the mountain, right away he knew that here was a voice the like of which
he'd not heard before. Here was a voice that spoke to him of feelings no one
else knew that he had. And lying there and listening with every fiber of his
body, he knew he had to seek out this wolf and know from it why it cried in
the night. Oh, he'd heard the stories of the teeth, the tongue, the eyes so
red and burning, but nothing would do except that he had to know that wolf
for himself.
And so one day, before the sun rose, he set out on the road to the
mountain where it was said the wolf made his den. It was a long road and a
steep one, but the boy took no stick, nor wore a hat to guard him from the
sun. And it was a dangerous journey to be sure, but the boy took no weapon
to defend himself. And though the country was barren and rocky and not
fruitful where he was going, the boy took no food nor drink to sustain him.
And though he'd never been on this way before, he followed no map, but went
the way of his heart, come what may. It was sometime at the end of a day's
travel that he began to grow thirsty and the emptiness inside him began to
make itself known in his stomach. He walked, becoming even more thirsty
until darkness overcame him and he was forced to stop for the night in some
trees near the road. And as he sat hungry and thirsty in the growing
darkness, he thought for a moment about turning back and rushing blindly
down the path and back to the village. But he knew that was not the way for
him. So he sat for a long while shivering in the night and then lay down
finally to sleep. In his dreams, the moon shone silver on the frosty stones,
the air was clear and crisp, and the voice of the wolf rang out from the top
of one of the peaks, calling out the way ahead, perhaps his way. He awoke in
the dawn with a start, wondering if the dream had been real, and the wolf
had actually called in the night.
He rose, still hungry, and continued on his way. Soon the path grew
steeper and rockier. As the sun was moving high and the day was warming, the
boy noticed ahead of him a flock of birds swooping and playing in a small
pool beside the road.
The boy rushed to the water, fell on his belly and drank his fill. When
he rose, the birds were watching him silently from a nearby tree limb.
Realizing he had interrupted their play, he smiled and thanked them for
letting him drink and continued on the path. Though his thirst was slaked,
still an emptiness was burning deep in his belly. And as he walked, once
again thoughts came to him of quitting, of just sitting down under a tree to
wait for whatever might happen. And what if he never got up again? Would
anyone miss him or come to find him? But something told him this was not the
end of his journey. If he did not continue he would never know what was at
the end of the path or why the wolf cried so in the night. And so he decided
to continue walking knowing not what lay ahead of him.
You can imagine how relieved he was after several minutes to see beside
the path a clump of bushes that were heavy and inviting with red, juicy
berries. He rushed to them and began to pick and eat the sweet, ripe
berries. But then he heard a noise. And looking up, he came face to face
with a very large and hairy bear. The bear was only a few feet away in the
bushes himself eating the tasty berries, The boy realized that those large
arms were entirely capable of reaching out to catch at him and crush the
life out of him. And so he did not move, but stood with the berries still
sweet on his tongue, his lips red with juice, his cheeks now white with
fright.
But the bear only stared and waited too...for a moment. And then the long
white teeth showed in his fuzzy face, and one massive set of claws
moved...and he began to pick and munch more of the ripe berries. The boy,
realizing that the bear was hungry only for berries, smiled and began to
breathe again, and went back to eating as well. After several minutes of
filling himself, the boy was ready to move along, and smiling and waving to
his friend, he left the bushes and continued on the path.
A way up the path the boy noticed it was becoming steeper and so much
harder to travel. And he was beginning to wonder when or how or if he would
ever see his wolf and meet his wolf and know his wolf and be able to answer
the strange desire he held within him to feel what the wolf felt deep in the
night.
Suddenly he heard a noise. A stone tumbled. The clatter echoed as the boy
froze on the trail. His eyes darted left and right, looking for the source
of the movement when something large moved and leaped into the path. His
heart stopped, then began to beat again as he saw the visitor clearly. It
wasn't the wolf at all, but a small deer, a yearling, a young male whose
nubbish horns were just beginning to show on the top of his head. The two of
them stared at one another for a moment, curious, fearless, silent.
The deer gazed at the boy wide-eyed.
The boy gazed back, and suddenly he was concerned that the young fellow
might be in danger. And he spoke quietly to the young deer. "Oh, do be
careful here. There's a bear down the path a way. And a wolf about, I think.
I'm searching for that wolf myself, but you? I don't think you are ready to
meet him."
The deer stared back in wonder and listening." Be careful, little man. Up
here all alone and so friendly. Be wary of those who would hurt you."
And with that the boy walked on slowly toward the deer who started and
scampered away into the rocks. The boy walked smiling to himself as he
thought of the deer now safely hidden in the rocks. Hiding until he grew
strong and large enough to defend himself against a bear or a wolf.
As he was thinking of this, he noticed the darkening sky and the cold
chill of the deepening night air as it gathered about him. He continued
along the bare path, trying not to look too far left or right, trying to
keep his footing, wondering if he had been wise in coming here, if he had
been right in seeking the wolf in such a lonely and desolate place. He was
growing more unsure of each step as he moved carefully and slowly up the
path. When suddenly...he saw something...no, felt something ahead. It might
have been nothing. It might have been a shadow crossing the moon. It might
have been everything he sought.
His heart beat faster. His head grew light, but his eyes stayed sharp as
he stared ahead of him up the trail. He waited quietly for another sign, and
soon came his reward as the shadows moved up ahead and became living and
breathing flesh. There on four paws, eyes reflecting his own bright gaze,
head still as stone and pointing down the trail toward him, was the wolf.
The boy could not move. The red eyes, the great tongue, the huge claws
flashed in his memory. But as he stared, he saw none of them. He could also
recall the song that had drawn him here, the singer from the distant night,
now only yards from him, breathing in the cold night, and exhaling hot
steam.
And as he stood, peering into the wild eyes before him, remembering that
sad, sweet song, he felt his heart soften and his fear evaporate. His eyes
filled and, without warning, he knew why he had come here. He knew in that
instant what he had traveled to find, what he had heard in that song, what
he had embraced in his lonely bed as he had lain awake, listening and
wanting. He knew that the song had been a cry for an end to solitude. The
cry was to banish aloneness. It had reached out across the miles and the
years and touched him. And it had guided him. He knew this now.
And so with his heart full and his eyes afire with understanding, the boy
faced the wolf and he spoke back...with his smile. And in that instant, the
two...boy and wolf...were one heart.
It is said the boy never returned to the life he had known in the
village. No one there could really be sure of his fate. No one would ever go
looking. But there is one tale, told by a brave hunter who became lost after
chasing a large deer up the mountain one day. When he returned, he told a
wild and unbelievable story of seeing a boy and a wolf through the trees,
lying asleep together under a tree some distance away. But as he made his
way thrashing and crashing through the forest to where he thought he would
rescue the lad, he became lost, and could no longer see nor find them. And
so he returned to his safe villager's life, speaking in hushed tones of his
brief glimpse of another life he could never understand. And as the people
listened to his story told over and over again until the words were worn,
and as the long years passed, some who listened would laugh, some would weep
quietly, a few would cross themselves in disgust, and, once and again, some
few would take heart and lie awake at night listening with hope to the
strange and wolfish duet, sung high upon a distant peak in the silver
moonlight.
http://www.wolfcountry.net/stories/
http://www.wolfcountry.net/information/myth_stories/wolfandboy.html
۞
Animal Tales Column brought to you by Kamala.
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ANIMATED MOVIE REVIEW:
RISE OF THE GUARDIANS
by Jeanne (Pythia) Leiter
I give kudos to Hollywood.
This is the second
animated feature that I felt the need to review. The first was
Brave. That review can be read in Between the Columns,
November 2012 in case you missed it the first
time around.
This movie, Rise of the
Guardians, is another wonderful
story. The movie is based on William Joyce’s series of books, The
Guardians of Childhood. Joyce also
wrote the movie story which led to David Lindsay-Abaire’s
screenplay. The Guardians are iconic characters who ‘guard’ human
attributes, such as a very Russian Santa Claus (beautifully voiced
by Alec Baldwin) guarding
Wonder.
The main plot suggests that
when children stop believing in our childhood mythical characters:
Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, E. Aster Bunnymund, the Sandman, and
Jack Frost, then these characters grow weaker. If ALL children stop
believing, will they disappear forever?
There is, of course, a
villain. Pitch spreads fear and nightmares among the children and
they begin to disbelieve. The children then make fun of Jamie, the
one boy left who hangs on to his belief in these characters.
We see the story unfold
through Jack Frost’s eyes. We see him coming awake in a lake beneath
a thick coating of ice, a piercing shaft of moonlight opening his
eyes. He is a trickster, forever frosting a nose or causing a boy
and his sled to dangerously careen through town. He jumps from
chimney to chimney, trying to satiate his desire for chaos. He has
no conscience, since as far as humans are concerned, he doesn’t
exist–therefore he’s invisible. Also, he’s invisible to himself,
since he has no knowledge, no memory of his past life. His life
began for him, as well as us, in that frozen lake.
And yes, we have a damsel in
distress. But, she is the one in danger who causes the other
Guardians to come together and save them all. The Tooth Fairy saves
all the children’s teeth which contain their memories of childhood.
She returns the childhood memories to each and every adult when that
particular memory is wanted and needed.
When Pitch spreads his reign
of terror throughout the world, and captures the baby Tooth Fairies
along with the all children’s memory teeth, and attempts to stop
Easter from happening, it’s time to form an army. An army for
survival.
Bunnymund is reduced to a
floppy stuffed animal with no power. The Guardians have been
weakened by Pitch’s assault on the children of the world. Jack Frost
goes to Jamie’s bedroom and desperately tries to make Jamie believe
in him. It’s hard fought; Jamie believes in Santa Claus, sure. Also
the Easter Bunny, the Sandman, and the Tooth Fairy–he has money
proving the latter. But, Jack Frost? Not happenin’. Finally, in a
brilliant thought, Jack frosts Jamie’s bedroom window. Jamie finally
sees the ‘writing on the wall’ and joins with Frost to save the
Guardians.
Jack Frost has an epiphany,
too. He accepts the role of Guardian that he has been rejecting. He
no longer seeks chaos. He and Jamie find the other Guardians in
order to combat Pitch.
The Guardians must stand firm
with Jamie and the friends he has convinced. The more the children
believe, the more strength pours into the Guardians until Pitch is
defeated.
Strangely enough, I felt sorry
for Pitch in the end. It turns out, he was being ignored–just like
Jack Frost. He felt the only way to be believed was to release his
nightmares and rule by fear. He was mistaken, yes. But still, he was
alone and lonely.
Other actors, all doing a very
excellent job voicing the characters include Chris Pine (Jack
Frost), Hugh Jackman (E. Aster Bunnymund), Isla Fisher (The Tooth
Fairy) and Jude Law (Pitch). No, I didn’t forget the Sandman, he
doesn’t speak, but he does make himself ‘heard’ with bells in a very
funny scene.
All components, animation,
music, acting, and directing are beautifully woven together creating
a wholesome, entertaining tapestry.
The movie, by DreamWorks
Animation, directed by Peter Ramsey, has a running time of 97
minutes.
Please watch this movie with
your children, and if you have no children, watch with a friend or
by yourself. Its powerful message is...we must believe in our myths.
It’s what makes us human.
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