The fortune teller stood at a square park table, her hair wrapped in a gold scarf, stacking perfectly formed human fingernails. Across from her, I watched as she methodically piled and unpiled the fingernails according to some obscure but precise calculation known only to her. She measured them against a line carved into the wood marked with tiny incremental notches.
Reading the messages she found there, she spoke.
“Your mother and father are not one, but All.”
My friend Jacqueline, standing between us, immediately blurted out, “What the fuck does that mean? That doesn’t make any sense!”
But I answered with unexpected certainty.
“No. She’s right. They are the archetypal Mother and Father. They are not mine alone.”
The fortune teller waved us closer.
“Come on. I have to finish these visions so I can go to heaven.”
This was the dream I had the night I arrived on the Isle of Mull in western Scotland for a two-week Goddess Pilgrimage. I believed I was traveling to my fatherland, the home of Clan MacBean, to heal old wounds and unbind myself from contracts unknowingly inherited through my patrilineal line.
Continue reading “Ariadne & Me – Mother Magic by Arianne MacBean”
Feminism and Religion 