The GODDESS Tony Kelly
I said last time that I'd tell you something of the Goddess, yet there's little indeed I can say that is more powerful, more evocative or more earthy than I've said already though in all probability it was overlooked. So let's go back to it. I was imagining that two babies, one born of a rain-forest mother and one of a middle-class woman in a typical suburb were interchanged shortly after birth, and I said that the person growing up in the middle-class area was still the middle-class person, even though in the rain-forest dweller's body, and I went on to say: "It's almost as if the person who is growing up is not an individual, but is an artefact of the environment that created them. As a slime mould gathers itself together in its widely spread parts to raise up the pedestals of the fruiting bodies, so too this thing we'll call 'surroundings' gathers itself up and gives birth to its young through the womb of a woman, or a bat, or a slow worm, or a fox, as the case may be." Or out of the womb of the pathless dark. This 'thing' we'll call 'surroundings' which some call 'environment' and others call the vault of darkness or the root of being, and whom we know as Mabh, is dark, old as the ages, primitive beyond knowing, an old, dark power welling up out of her own being, mindless and irresistible. Mindless? More fundamental than mind, deeper, darker, more powerful, womb of all magic and mystery. Mind himself stands with his feet in her lap. She's older than time, Prakriti of the deep, and her womb is deep within matter, deep in the night, and snug beneath the hedgerow where the fieldmouse gives birth to her young.
Mabh she is of the deep and the shadows, the womb of being, and
Mother of All.