An Unearthing of Goddesses

An Unearthing of Goddesses Part 38

Back in the treehouse, they supped and relaxed. Lhamo sat next to Kate on a swing overlooking the forest.

"I am going to show you where to look, but I am not going to tell you what to see. That is how I teach. I want you to discover the secrets," he said. "What they don't teach in the standard fare."

"What I've learned so far is hardly standard," Kate laughed.

Lhamo pushed off with his feet, setting the swing in motion. "I am sure. Yet have you learned to let go?"

They swung out, leaving the ground behind. Lhamo pushed them farther and farther. Kate thought the rope might break, they swung so high. She squealed in half joy, half fear.

"I haven't swung like that since I was probably ten years old," she said as they slowed. She felt a tinge of sadness, thinking of her old swing in her mother's yard. She wondered how she was, and her sisters. Were they in danger now?

"And what did you want when you were ten years old? What did you wish to be?" Lhamo cocked his head.

"An astronaut, actually," Kate said. "I wanted to be the first woman to visit Mars."

"I see. So, the stars are your destiny."

"I suppose. But I also wanted to be a pastry chef. So, I may just have liked a white suit." She snorted.

Lhamo smiled. "I too like to bake. I learned in the monastery, yet my brother Lha-sung is the master, as he always reminds me. Baking bread is a most spiritual process. We must be mindful of each step, the kneading, the rising, the adding of the yeast to transform the dough, as magical as any act of the Gods. We must slow down, we must wait for the process. It is a form of meditation. Baking bread is alchemical – a seed changing to a grain, changing to a loaf that gives sustenance, beginning in the most ancient days of man."

Kate looked sheepish. "Actually, I use a bread machine. It's super easy, you wouldn't believe."

Lhamo cocked his head. "Really? You'll have to show me sometime."

They swung until the stars were visible. A telescope was set up on the deck. Kate went to it and peered through curiously. She gazed for a few moments, then she turned to Lhamo.

"Can you point this at the rift? I'd actually like to try to see it." He nodded and went to her, adjusting the tool carefully, its target now the constellation hosting the tear in the sky. She peered through again.

"And what do you see?" Lhamo asked.

"It looks like a smear, a smudge. So dark that the stars are blotted out." Kate straightened back up. "My dream of being an astronaut was squashed when I discovered I wasn't going to make it through trigonometry. But I loved to stargaze, loved to write poetry about the heavens. 'The stars tangling in my hair,' and all." She looked back into the telescope. "I also loved the stories behind the constellations."

Lhamo waited patiently. He loved a good story. Kate continued.

"What I see is that the rift begins in the constellation Andromeda. Andromeda is in between Cassiopeia and Pegasus. In the constellation, you can also see the Andromeda galaxy, which is the only galaxy visible to the naked eye, besides our Milky Way. I loved the story of Andromeda – an Ethiopian princess whose mother Cassiopeia was boastful of her beauty over the sea nymphs, who then complained to Poseidon. He ordered Andromeda to be sacrificed to the sea monster he set upon her town – release the Kraken! So, she was chained to a rock on the seaside, and Perseus rescued her – loved that movie! They went on to live a happy life. After her death, Athena placed her beside Cassiopeia in the skies."