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Zarda: The Journey Begins
Ratings:
374 pages5 hours
Summary
Born in sea foam and blessed by the Great Goddess, Zarda is raised to be a woman among women.
Zarda's mythic journey leads her through field and forest, mountain and valley, searching for the spiritual truth. She encounters love, evil, revenge, rape, lust, death, birth and all that woman meets along life's journey.
Honored by her homeland, she strikes out alone to find her place in the world with only her knowledge that truth is love and love is truth.
Along the way, Zarda meets her first love, a duplicitious Priestess, a magical wise woman, a young lover, and the Great Goddess. Throughout her journey she is connected with her teacher Morrigan, Her mother Rhiannon and her father Hector by mystical dreams.
Open and loving to all that cross her path, Zarda knows that she has been chosen to spread the truth of love. Although her journey is difficult, she knows her physical and spiritual guides will lead her to the glory of being a leader for all the ages.
Publisher: BookBabyReleased: Feb 7, 2016ISBN: 9781483561257Format: book
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Zarda - Gwendolyn Curran
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I love old books. And flea markets. Being connected to the history of other people through their valuable treasures is very comforting to me. The seller talks to you of family when the item was bought, how the new puppy broke the fourth cup of a beautiful breakfast set bought at great personal sacrifice, and why did grandma ever think they would like a purple platter with white roses that she made as her first senior citizen project!
That’s what browsing in thrift shops, boot sales, and antique stores is like. Used bookstores are the best. As I gently caress the faded cover of a poetry volume published in England, 1964, and read the inscription…To Helen, in memory of our youngest
, I stand with Helen mourning the baby who died of flu that winter. The wee babe cried until exhausted. Helen bathed her daughter with cool cloths, held her to her breast, and walked the dark death corridor praying to the Great Goddess and Mary and the Queen to spare this one red-haired angel. However, dawn brought stillness to the child, emptiness to Helen, and the doctor’s steps, all too late to lock the gate to the nether world, if ever he could have. CONNECTION.
In the summer of 1976, our American Bicentennial year, I was studying at the University of Durham in Northumberland, England. With a group of American teachers, I was housed at the castle next to the Cathedral, built in 900 A.D. to establish the power of the Bishops of Durham in their struggle against the dark forces
of whatever group was put into that category in the 900s.
Each day, after classes, a colleague and I would walk down the medieval cobblestone streets that wind down from the Cathedral into the center square, where farmers and priests, workers and wives shopped for supper, swapped gossip, and conducted their daily business in the town—locked between the 10th and 20th centuries. Stopping to look in a shop window I often heard horses clopping along the stone street or saw the reflection of long velvet skirts or heard the shout of a fishwife as she advertised her fresh mackerel. Imagination or Connection?
On each tour Nancy and I would investigate a different section until we thought we knew our way around Durham well — for two Yankee women. It was a Tuesday in June. It had been raining, which is as natural here as a summer in Seattle. We had taken refuge in a cafe for a tea and a sweet. Sitting at the window my eyes kept searching the street for some clue to the meaning of this day, when I noticed a shopkeeper rolling out a wagon of books onto the wet pavement.
Nancy
, I said. Do you remember a bookstore on this lane?
Nancy shrugged, lost in the thick cherry filling in her pastry.
I’ll be back in a minute, Nancy. I’m going to check this bookshop out before closing time. Here’s two pounds for my bill.
Nancy nodded and I picked up my purse and umbrella and ran across the empty street in great anticipation. For what? I didn’t know, but that cart of books was calling to me as surely as my name is Gwen.
There were the usual paper back novels, used chemistry texts, outdated dictionaries, German grammars, and medical tomes. A cookbook looked interesting, but as I put my hand out to retrieve it, I was jostled by a passerby attempting to avoid getting splashed by a mini careening up the slipper stones.
When I turned back to the book cart — There It Was. It was old and worn. The dark leather binding was smooth to my fingers which trembled as I opened the cover. Undecipherable symbols reminiscent of some unknown ancient language flowed beautifully across every page. I was not a scholar of Chaucer or the ancient Celtic tongue of my Druid sisters, but the book itself spoke to me as I felt its pages. CONNECTION.
This was an important document. Had the shopkeeper put it among the cheap sheets of romances and recipes by accident? Was it fate? I hoped the price would not be too dear. Just then a young woman emerged from the book shop (which I swear had not existed before tea) and asked if she could be of assistance. I explained that I was an American teacher taking a course at the University and wanted to purchase this old book if it was not too expensive. She smiled, took the book, and disappeared into the shop.
Afraid of losing my find, I tagged right behind her. The cool mustiness of the shop’s inside contrasted sharply with the humid warmth of the afternoon sun and I shivered. I approached the counter, piled high with books, as was almost every space in the small shop. Books seemed to have grown from the floor, and as I stepped upon the creaking boards they shifted slightly — breathing.
An old man behind the crowded counter spoke quietly to the girl who turned and said, That will be twelve pounds, mum.
Twelve pounds! Please let me have that much in my wallet! This was not a Visa/MasterCard establishment, for sure. As I counted out the money, down to the last ha penny in my purse, I saw the old man smiling at me over thick-lensed, horned-rimmed glasses.
Thank you
, I said.
That book chose you
, said the old man in his soft northern dialect. He kept smiling. His teeth were as crooked in his mouth as the books on his shelves.
Thank you again
, I murmured, anxious to return to the cafe and share my treasure with Nancy.
Little did I know what chosen
meant. These last years have a been an addiction to translating this book, which has turned out to be a story told and retold as I am doing here. The language seemed to be a mixture of old Celtic and Old English. With the help of some linguists at the University of Oregon and the University of Durham, I managed to translate some of it. I say some of it, because the rest was channeled. I don’t know how it worked. I just know it did. I would sit with my left hand upon the page of the book and transcribe with my right. CONNECTION.
The language experts agreed with me most of the time. This is a story of woman’s struggle to maintain her identity, integrity and wholeness in an unknown world, growing dark and dense. There are gaps. The experts could not decipher all and the channel did not reveal all. Perhaps Zarda left those gaps for you to make your own CONNECTION. This book has chosen you.
gwendolyn curran, Oregon
My name is Zarda…..My name is Zarda…..My name is Zarda…..
Having hardly slept, my eyes flutter open, and I slowly rise from my warm childhood bed to greet the rosy dawn.
This is a good day to be reborn as a strong female and begin my foretold journey into womanhood. This is a good day to face the unknown.
Today is the final day of my Woman Rites. For Nineteen life years I have followed the tradition of the Goddess Nede, my family and the Temple preparing for my woman’s journey. Each new life year since I was nine, Morrigan, our Priestess, had given me a task to learn, practice and share at the Temple. First I helped the Temple teachers with the young ones. Then Morrigan took me into the woods and fields to recognize and gather herbs and wild plants used for healing. I have become an above average horsewoman, become proficient with the bow, sword, and hand to hand combat under the tutelage of my father King Hector. In the Temple kitchen, I worked long days preparing nourishing meals. Morrigan instructed me in prayer rituals, winemaking, dress, bathing, housekeeping, fire, and sacred sex. My favorite, though was being trained as a Temple dancer. What joy there is in rhythmic movement. These last two moons I have fasted, chanted, meditated, danced, and found my silent times. I feel clear, strong, and full of the Goddess spirit. This is the culmination of my life’s preparation under Morrigan, my teacher, Rhiannon, my mother, and my father, Hector. Soon my journey toward womanhood will begin. I will travel beyond these familiar walls. As the only daughter of Rhiannon and Hector, my education for this Woman Journey has been carefully planned since the Day of my Birth.
How blessed am I to have such a loving family…This is a good day to be reborn
, I mutter, as if trying to convince myself. Slipping into a simple blue dress, I throw my arms out wide and lift my face to the rising sun. I sing, This is a good day to begin my journey toward womanhood!
Suddenly anxious, I whisper, "and step through the Iron Gate into the unknown…. alone.".
Never again will I walk the blessed halls of our marble Temple, or ride through the woods to the sea, or lie among the wildflowers in the fields. I have never been alone. With my large natural and extended family, I have always felt safe and loved,
How blessed am I
, I whisper, even though my eyes burn with tears.
I was chosen by the Goddess. My mother, Rhiannon, was visited by a messenger who imbued the Goddess spirit into her womb. However, mother fell very ill soon after the visit, and even the healing powers of her sister, Morrigan, were tested in that period. Frustrated and grieving, Morrigan had taken Rhiannon to the ocean and perched on the rocks with her sister’s burning body in her arms. Morrigan cried to the birds and fish and the floating weed to take the illness from her sister. Morrigan had tended the sacred fire, chanted, fed her numerous healing potions, and finally sponged cool sea water over Rhiannon until her skin was encrusted with the salt-minerals, but to no avail.
After three suns and three moons, Morrigan slept from exhaustion, still holding Rhiannon on her lap. She awoke on the third dawn to see that the tide had crept in and all of Rhiannon’s body was covered with white sea foam. Afraid that she was drowned, Morrigan carefully brushed the foam away from Rhiannon’s nose and mouth. She bent to kiss her and the eyelids moved.
Soon my mother’s eyes fluttered open and she whispered, Her name is Zarda and she is to be a woman among women. The Goddess has spoken.
I hold this story of my beginning in my heart, especially when we go to the sea. I would cover myself with sea-foam and give thanks to the Goddess for life.
Folding my single blanket, I fluffed the straw mattress on my simple wooden bed, and think back to the previous evening’s Tim of Questioning in the Temple. It was my last initiation test. I can hear Morrigan’s words.
Who are you?
asked Morrigan.
I am Zarda, daughter of Rhiannon and Hector, student of Morrigan, chosen of Arduina.
What is your purpose?
To seek the truth and heal.
How will you do this?
I will take a journey.
Where will you go?
Through the iron gates of Nede, into the dark woods and beyond.
Who will lead you?
Arduina will lead me.
What is the message of this Temple that you will carry on your journey?
Love all who cross your path.
Why do you undertake this journey?
It is the will of Arduina. It is my purpose.
Wherein lies your strength?
My strength lies within.
What will you take upon this journey.
My truth.
What is truth?
Love is the truth.
What is love?
Oneness with all.
Who can take away your love?
No one. Love is.
Are you ready for your Day of Woman?
I am.
I felt sure of the answers. I would speak true today before the village and my family as I declare my womanhood. However, there is a niggling worry in my heart that says beware.
Opening the door of my sleeping room, I pick up the ewer of water and the plate of bread and cheese and put them all on the table. I drink the clear water and eat some bread and cheese. Then, placing my Temple Rug upon the stone floor, I begin my morning meditation.
In my body I feel the cool stones and welcome their responsiveness to my sitting upon them. The birds sing in tribute to the joyful awakening of another life day. Thank you, birds for your joyful song. Sun flows through the small patterns window and I revel in the warmth on my skin. Thank you, Father Sun, for your gift. Soon my inner self appears in sea-foam form, spraying upon the cliffs of the sea.
Zarda, Zarda.
Slowly I become aware of someone touching my shoulder. I leave the frothy sea-foam for the solid world of my stone room.
Zarda, Priestess Morrigan awaits you at the Pool for your final purification
, speaks Ailedil.
Ailedil and I have played together all our lives. She is like my sister and I have insisted that she attend me during all these ritual days. Ailedil sleeps in an adjoining room. We have chanted, walked in silence, and meditated together. She will take my place in the Temple and assist Morrigan in her teaching.
We walk arm in arm to the Pure Pool of Love. Our height and form, strong stride and uplifted heads make up appear a mirror image of the other. We are truly sisters in spirit, if not in blood.
Morrigan stands at the far end of the circular pool, her magnificent form aglow in the sunlight. She wears only a light transparent morning gown and her femaleness is indeed enhanced.
I walk directly to my teacher and am enfolded in her arms and kissed tenderly upon my forehead.
This is your day, Zarda, Our poets will sing of it for many turns of our beloved sphere.
Removing my gown, I walk slowly down the colored tile steps into the steaming water. Soon I am standing in the center of the Pure Pool of Love.
Morrigan sits on the steps to the north. Ailedil to the south.
Zarda, who is woman among women, cleanse your body as you have cleansed your soul so that you may receive your womanhood in the pureness of love.
As Morrigan speaks, Ailedil brings lavender perfumed soap and a dried sea sponge. I take them and stroke each part of my body carefully then sink to the bottom of the pool. Upon arising from the water, Ailedil pours liquid lavender soap into my hair and helps me rub it into foam and once again I go under the water. When I reappear Ailedil guides me up the steps. Morrigan wraps me in large absorbent sheets and we move to the sun lounge to dry and relax.
When my hair is dry and combed I hear the sound of the flute in the Temple. My favorite melody! Jumping from the couch, I pull Morrigan and Ailedil to their feet, and begin skipping around and about. Morrigan smiles. Ailedil joins me in dancing up the Temple path.
Applause from the Temple dancers greets us as we enter the Dance Arena. Quickly joining hands with the nearest dancer we begin the intricate series of steps I have been performing since I could walk. What joy is felt in this Dance of Life today!
Once the seven sections of the dance are finished, I go the well to draw drinking water. I drink from the common silver cup, offer some to Ailedil, then splash water on my childhood friend. We both laugh like sweet little girls.
Morrigan interrupts the water play with a tray of sweet bread and fruit. By the time you finish eating, the oil will be the right temperature for your massage.
* * *
Relaxed, rested, and again dressed in my simple blue shift, I walk to the Garden House for my last meeting with my mother and Morrigan. All of my life I have been preparing. Soon I will leave on my journey. As I enter the House I remember other times in this place. It is a space to come and dream according to my mother. I like to sit quietly in the late hours of the day and let my mind travel
she had said.
I have done that many times, spirit traveling to exotic lands. Morrigan liked to tell stories here, and I always looked forward to the part where she would let me invent a new plot, or a special ending.
Good Woman’s Day, dear daughter,
speaks my mother as she draws me into a close embrace. I will always remember the timbre of her voice as I lay my head upon her breast.
Mother moves three chairs together, her rose gown swishing a soft song on the inlaid dark wooden floor. Morrigan places one white candle on a small table in the center.
Zarda, daughter of Rhiannon and Hector, student of Morrigan, chosen of Arduina, what do you ask upon this Day of Woman?
Morrigan whispers so her breath will not disturb the candle flame.
Morrigan, my teacher. Rhiannon, my mother. Arduina, my guide…I ask to be a woman among women.
Are you ready for the trials of this journey?
Yes, my mother, I am.
Are you ready for the isolation of the journey?
"Arduina will never let me to be isolated. My inner love will shine like a star to light my way.
Do you want to heal others?
I will heal as I have been taught.
I, Morrigan, Priestess of the Temple of Nede, hereby declare Zarda ready for the Cloak of Arduina and the Staff of Woman.
I, Rhiannon, Mother of Zarda, wife to Hector, and sister to Morrigan, give to Zarda this rose quartz crystal, the living symbol of love.
Mother rises and places the small pink crystal, hung on a delicate silver chain, on my breast.
Morrigan places the feathered cloak of Arduina upon my shoulders. I collected every feather on this cape during my life years, and it has been woven expertly by a woman in the village of Nede. A maple staff she places in my hand, and places a kiss on my forehead. This wooden branch I had found on my first solo forest walk. It has been smoothed over the years by my father, and painted with Temple symbols by Morrigan. A true personal treasure.
Mother also kisses me on the forehead and, together, the sisters say, It is done. Walk Zarda, woman among women. Begin your journey.
We stride side by side through the Garden of Blessings to the Temple Gathering Place, and to the waiting crowd of Temple maidens, extended family, and villagers. As we step upon the stone platform happy cheers erupt, but are silenced by me as I hold up my staff. Lighting the Sacred Fire, I speak in my most commanding voice. It is done. I, Zarda, am woman among women, and start my Life Journey tomorrow!
With that declaration, a chant of "Zarda, Zarda, Zarda…. goes up, music begins and I find myself toasting my father with a silver goblet filled with our best red wine.
* * *
What a day! I am excited and exhausted, and shaky. I may have drunk a tad too much of our best red wine. It is no matter. Do I have all my things packed? I must check. Staff against the wall. Yes. Pouch with necessary herbs and medications from Morrigan and my mother is on the table. Yes. Feather cape hanging on a hook. Yes. Water bottle on the table. Yes. Handmade natural leather boots from my father stand near the door. Yes. Pack that I made with the help of my father sitting on the chair. Yes. In the pack are three outfits. One long dress of soft chamois decorated with wooden and glass beads. I spent many moons working on this. A long skirt and blouse woven and sewn by the Temple maidens in a variety of lavender hues. Yes. Perfect for dancing. A simple short cotton tunic and short pants for walking. Yes. I love how the fabric used in making each piece is so comfortable and beautiful.
Everything is here.
I take off my celebration clothes and my sandals. Folding them carefully I put them on the table, then slip into my sleeping gown. Walking outside, I gaze toward the moon, full in the sky. Dear Arduina, this is my last night in my blessed home. I thank you for your love. May I share that love on my woman’s journey. Please stay with me,
I whisper, knowing that Arduina will always be there. Walking inside to my bed, I lay down to sleep. Closing my eyes, I try to slow my breathing so sleep will come. I try and try. Finally, I open my eyes. I am too anxious. I must go to the Temple and ask for continued strength on my journey.
Getting out of bed, I slip my feet into my sandals and quickly open the door to walk to the Temple. Once there I go to Morrigan’s sleeping room and knock. Come in,
I hear and softly open the door.
Pardon me, Morrigan. May I speak with you?
Of course, Zarda. Could you not sleep?
No, I am too excited and anxious.
Sit here with me, Zarda, and tell me what troubles you.
You, my mother and father, and all the Temple Maidens have taught me well since I was born. I feel I have listened and learned, but suddenly in bed tonight I seemed to have lost all knowledge. I am afraid to leave this home and go on this journey into the unknown
, I whisper, feeling as a small girl again.
Morrigan looks at me and sees tears forming in my eyes. She pulls me to her breast and puts her arms around me. This is natural, my sweet girl. You are stepping beyond the bounds of your comfort. Up until now, we have led you along a path. Now you go where there is no path, and you will make your own trail. You will use the lessons taught here when the time is right. You will meet each challenge with love, for that is the truth. The Goddess Arduina will be with you each moment. To become a woman among women is your destiny. Know that my arms hold you now and forever.
Morrigan continues to hold me until she feels my breathing slow to its normal rhythm. Then she pulls back, kisses me on the head and stands me on my feet. Taking my hand, we walk to the door. Open the door, Zarda. This is the first step on your journey.
I kiss Morrigan on the cheek and walk through the door. My feet take me to my mother’s door. I knock.
Come in,
speaks my mother, Rhiannon.
I open the familiar carved wooden door and walk in.
Sitting in a chair by the small table, mother says, I have been expecting you, my wonderful daughter.
Holding out her hand to bid me come, she continues, Sit next to me in this other chair and tell me what is troubling you. You have been to see Morrigan, correct?
Yes, mother. I fear that I will lose all the knowledge I have been taught and will dishonor you, my father, Morrigan, the Temple, and Arduina. It feels overwhelming to step beyond the gates of home into the unknown.
Mother takes my hand in hers and speaks, The only thing that is ultimately real about your journey is the step you are taking at this moment. Each step will lead you where there is no path. Each step is a new step on your woman’s journey. That is all there ever is.
Tears well in my eyes. Mother moves to the rocking chair my father had made for her when I was born. Please come and sit on my lap, my loving daughter, and we will rock, as we did when you were small.
Wiping my tears, I move to my mother’s lap. I am larger than when I was four life years, mother.
We both laugh. Then mother rocks, hoping to rock away all my fears.
* * *
I had slept little when I hear Saranyu’s first footstep through the door. Leaping up and standing on the bed, I greet her. Good morning! What brings you to the woman among women’s rooms so early in the morning? Or be it night and mine eyes have chosen the wrong name for one of my several aunts?
Your father, Hector, would have a few last words with you. He will meet you near the gate. Go quickly,
replies Saranyu as she walks to the balcony to have her tea and wait for the sun to finish its ascent out of the hills.
What a fine day this is. I have earned my woman’s place and go forth into the world to establish myself. Surely I AM the most blessed of all women. My journey will be as exciting as any of the teller’s stories. My journey will take me to unknown lands. My journey will be enchanted.
I fondle the family gifts laying on the carved wooden trunk near my bed. The very same trunk that my father made for my twelfth life year celebration. Mother had handed me this soft leather pouch at the Woman among Women’s celebration. It contains items I will need to heal and protect. Morrigan gave me this carved box of delicate glass vials, filled with multicolored seeds, and powders. My loving father had presented me the soft natural woman’s boots, made by himself, to keep me connected to the earth. Picking up Mother’s gift pouch, I remember her serious words.
My daughter, this pouch contains things you will need on your journey. Use these gifts well and they will serve you for many life years. Your beauty and strength and love will bring you wisdom. Remember what you have been taught and return to us when your journey is done.
She had held me close and I had tasted the salt of her tears as we embraced in the Temple hall. As I had passed the glowing embers of the sacred fire last night, its flame seemed to wave good-bye. I had dipped my left hand into the sweet bowl of Goddess perfume and my nostrils had been filled with the sweet scent of herbs and flowers carefully prepared by Morrigan and Idun. The time of childhood was over. The time of woman was beginning.
* * *
I see Hector sitting in his favorite leather chair near the fire in the stone Gate House. He nervously drums his fingers on the wooden chair arms until one of the many cats jumps onto his ample belly and starts to make a nest.
Down with you Nephele. Go find your mistress and tell her to hurry here before I….
He is interrupted by my appearance -—the object of his impatience. I pause in the door, waiting for an invitation to enter, as befits the daughter of the King.
Hector is struck again by Zarda’s beauty and the grace of her movements as she walks toward him, her feather robe rustling with each step. At birth, her thick hair and strong voice had told him this one was indeed different. At the Temple School, Rhiannon and Morrigan, and Idun talked of no one else. Bright, eager, sensitive, and strong in all areas of study told them that Zarda indeed had been chosen for the Journey. Now the time was here. Now was the beginning. With each step Zarda grows from baby to child to youth to woman. Her figure is Woman, and Hector is proud and sad. Proud to have helped bring such a special daughter into his world. Sad to see her leave his world, even though he knows she has been trained for this Journey all her life.
Father Hector, you called me? Saranyu came to my room with the first rays of the sun, as is her habit.
Yes, my daughter, let me walk you down the path to the Gate. I could not let you cross into the outer world alone. My heart will be empty without your bright and shining smile.
Father, may I ask you a question?
Of course, sweetness. What would you want to know?
Last night I spoke with Morrigan and mother about my fears of leaving this, my home, for an unknown journey. Will I remember my lessons when needed? Will I follow the path of truth and love? I am anxious and worried…
Hector looks at his lovely, strong daughter, and sees the tension in her body, and the tears on her cheeks. Let us walk into the sun.
Hector tosses a sheepskin robe over his shoulders against the morning chill and rises to his full height. Putting his long arm around Zarda’s shoulders, they turn and walk through the open door to the garden. As they walk through the iris and roses and blossoming trees, their breathing regulates itself to their steps and their moods.
Dear beloved Zarda, you are strong so you can be gentle. Educated so you can be humble. Fierce so you can be compassionate. Passionate so you can be rational. Disciplined so you can be free. Remember that being brave is less about being not afraid, but going forward in spite of the fear.
The Iron Gate appears suddenly and we both stop, knowing this is the end of the beginning.
"My daughter, my joy, know you are loved. In your journey love all that cross your path. The Crown of Woman, which you have earned, suits you better than any other. Use your gifts for enlightenment and growth. You have within you more love than you could ever understand. I hear Ama ringing the
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