“Hecate, in your oakleaf crown shaking reptile dreadlocks,
around you hellhounds yowling sharp and shrill,
so meadows tremble, river-nymphs scream,
their waters rush backwards up the stream-bed
and dive affrighted down their own fountains;
with the witches I dance around you,
hair in the wind, gashing blood from arms:
sex-crazed hags with false teeth and hair,
young girls, gloriously pornographic,
stir the cauldron of ugly oddities,
throw in magic salads gathered in the graveyard—
a brew with power to draw babes screaming
into existence, or hurl them howling hence.
The witches lay hold of you, Hecate, World-tree,
shake, make tremble on your branches
the planets suspended
like rare and fragile fruit.”
- by Ellipsis Marx, from The Rotting Goddess
The top is far beyond what many of us can see. It is a point upon which we fixate, focus, and reach for as a goal; striving toward far-seeing perspectives of positive blessings. No one ever TRIES to get to the bottom, in the dirt and muck, where it feels most days like quicksand. No, reaching to bring our station in life ever higher, whether spiritually or monetarily... there are as many accommodating paths. The path of Hekate is hard, rough, but you wind up shining in the end. As we now bring the energies of Her cosmic body to the Crown chakra, Sahasrara or 'pure consciousness', we can understand the magnitude of Her reach. What exactly is Her 'pure consciousness'? Is it as the Chaldeans believed, She is the World Soul from which all others come from... a monotheistic philosophy perpetuated by Platonic ideologies? Or is She truly one of many energies in the Universe, just older and larger in Her presence?
Her crown is not one of ringed starlight like Her mother Asteria, nor the destructive gore of Perses; although She does take after both Her parents in Her form sometimes. I have found, at Her true nature, Hekate's crown is a woven ring of poisonous herbs, dried bones and leaves from the trees. She takes the smell of wildness wherever She roams... for She is the night wanderer who shakes the death rattle. This is Hekate Soteira : who better to be a 'savior' then the one who saves us from a life of misery? People did not live as comfortably as we do now, life was not Monday Night Football and the Kardashians, although probably as corrupt. To many people, dying is liberation. But we don't want to be offing ourselves in the name of Hekate...although I am sure She would appreciate the sentiment as She has a soft spot for suicides. No, She can liberate us spiritually...bring us back from the walking death we are surrounded by, those who are still asleep and not aware of any kind of consciousness. In order to experience that pure consciousness thing, we have to experience spiritual death. Now this is just a theory. I cannot say I have achieved this state of grace in my spiritual life, just yet anyway. But it seems all mystical traditions offer a new beginning through the purification or removal of old oaths; one part dies so another can go forward.
And so I ask mighty Hekate to give me a crown, let me wear the headpiece of Her Priesthood, should She will it. Let the velvety smell of mugwort, feathery sweetness of lavender, and heady perfume of roses surround my head; purifying as a halo. Use me as an instrument of your inspiration... turn my hate into love and fear into power... composting and metamorphosis allowed full reign. I am ready to climb from the edge of the abyss to the pure air on the mountaintop. The dead are old ways of thinking; the death is refreshing, a burden sloughed off by my own Will with the support of the cosmic Savioress. The view from up here is amazing.