Sarai and Jen are so troubled they can’t comfort each other. It is terrible not knowing Kat’s situation. They get a measure of reprieve with the appearance of the junior midwife. “She’s OK,” are the first words. It doesn’t feel OK. She has lost such a lot of blood. The baby isn’t due for another week. “If she was in labour she isn’t now. We will do a caesarean today. We don’t want to take unnecessary risks at this point.”
Sarai prepares to speak and thinks better of it. Jen jumps in. “Can we see her?”
“In a few minutes. The anaesthetist is with her at the moment. I’ll let you know when she’s finished.”
The nurse retreats down the corridor. “Hullo Jen,” hails an excited voice. “I’m a grandmother!” The friends look up to see a plump woman with shining eyes. “My Sally produced a boy two hours ago. I’ve just seen him. He’s perfect. I counted his fingers and toes myself. He’s got dark hair like mine. I’ve had a cuddle and all … But listen to me going on. Why are you here, Jen? Are you all right?”
“Yes, Mabel, I’m fine. I came with a friend who had an emergency but she’s going to be OK. How lovely that Sally has a little boy. Congratulations on reaching grandmother status.” Jen stands and gives Mabel a hug then turns to Sarai. “Sarai this is Mabel, my wonderful cleaning lady. Mabel, this is Sarai,” she smiles, “my wonderful teacher.”
As Mabel bounces to the exit, Sarai comments, “That’s the nearest thing I’ve seen to walking on air.”
The nurse returns. “You two are looking happier, that’s good. Kat could do with some cheerful faces. You can see her now,” she tells them. “This way, I’m afraid we’re rather short-staffed at present. It’s going to be an hour or so before we can get Kat into pre-op. If you can keep her company that will be wonderful. Nothing is happening at present and nothing is likely to happen for quite a while.”
Sarai is deep in thought. This is it. The time has come! Both her novices are pregnant. She has felt for a long time that pregnancy is significant, along with a niggle that the deliveries might not go well. Whatever the outcome of the next few hours, this is an auspicious moment.
Kat is looking pale, but apart from a drip in her arm nothing is visually disturbing. They pass shared love through hugs and sense the transition from scared to cheered. Sarai shuts the door. The room is small. Jen huddles the chairs into the bed. Kat smiles her thanks, then sees Sarai is going into her la-la state.
“My wonderful friends,” Sarai says with an air of grandeur. She looks into each woman’s eyes. “It is good that we are here to support each other, but there is another reason why we are all here.” They return her intensity with blankness. “This is the chosen time. This is the chosen place. You are my novices. I must share the great secrets with you.”
Now! The younger women can think of no less appropriate time. Kat’s baby is stressed and Kat is about to undergo a caesarean. This is crazy mad!
“Thank you for your patience and tenacity in gleaning knowledge from me. You are blessed women. I am called to share with you both my understanding of the Deep Wisdom; to let you glimpse what it means to be a member of the League of Lilith. One of you will take up my mantle and continue the journey.”
Yeah, like I’m going anywhere, thinks Kat.
League of Lilith? Jen feels unease.
“The journey will be …” Sarai searches for words and, despite their innate opposition, the young women both feel they are sliding into her realm. Perhaps she is able to cast spells, thinks Jen. I’m full of drugs, Kat reminds herself. “… perfect, the journey will be perfect, nothing will be asked of you that is not achievable. Listen with your hearts, minds, and souls. But first I have a gift for each of you. She takes from her bag two small tissue-wrapped items. “I would be grateful if you would wear them. The girls unwrap identical silver pendants crafted to the form of an attractive winged woman with long hair.
“A guardian angel,” says Kat. “It’s lovely, Sarai. Thank you.”
Jen is about to speak but Sarai holds up a finger. “My pleasure. The chains are long enough to slip over your heads, that’s right. Now, recall your former instruction: attune yourselves to humanity and know this physical planet has chosen a male path.” Jen softly rubs the pendant between thumb and fingers. The sensation is lovely to her, Sarai’s voice is lovely as well. She forces herself to focus on the cryptic words. Sarai holds her arms out. The young women feel caught in her symbolic embrace. “Our sphere of being is orientated to the illusion of self.” Sarai’s voice rises, giving her the air of an Old Testament prophet. At last she is going to sweep back the Red Sea and let the Chosen pass to the other side. Jen is swimming in thoughts and questions. Kat calmly believes that for the first time in her life she is to be privy to something truly significant. Both acknowledge a nagging knot in their stomachs, the knot of fear. Do I deserve this? comes a voice to Jen. Will I be able to understand this? comes a voice to Kat. Self-doubt uncoils to a slithering snake.
Sarai sees and understands the forces present in her novices. The moment of truth has arrived and true to the nature of the Masculine World it came under stress. A child is waiting to be born, terrible pressures are about to manifest, pain and suffering are imminent. But, Sarai reminds herself, they are illusions, distractions from a far greater crisis. She wonders how she can impart 40 years of evolved wisdom in 30 minutes. Her novices appear frozen. She must plough forward.
“What defines us as masculine is our separateness.” The young women gaze at Sarai, unblinking, waiting for guidance and explanation. “The physical world is lost in separateness. We humans are addicted to our identities. We believe the sum of our knowledge — bodies, experience, memories, and our personal perception of the world — is reality. This is not reality.” The words are enormous, they swallow understanding. Kat lies half-sitting and completely mystified. Jen recognises themes vaguely understood during a teenage foray into Buddhism. They give nothing to hold on to. Sarai sees all.
“I cannot tell you this with words, my precious friends, it is beyond word understanding. The Deep Wisdom cannot be understood, it can only be experienced. Your bodies will not let the information cross through if your minds can’t be at peace with what I am saying.”
She has lost it, thinks Jen. This is the proof I hoped wouldn’t come. She is actually mad.
Sarai knows every mystic of every age was presumed crazy. She is taking her novices beyond the perception of their planet. They will assume her insane. Their masculine programming requires such assumption. She pushes on.
“In pre-history the individual had no importance other than being part of the tribe and the Great Goddess was honoured naturally. Much later Moses meets God in the desert and dares ask the deity his name. It is recorded that God replies “I Am”. A truer translation indicates the meaning to be I Am what I Am Becoming — and how true that was for all humankin. The myth records a great truth, from that period on humans lived in the world of I. Modern humans define existence through physical perception. We seek to hear, smell, taste, see, and touch the world. We require physical proof to validate everything. That proof is perceived by the individual, by the I. The God of the Hebrew Scriptures is separate from us. He sees with his own eyes and perceives the world in his own unique experience. God is a unique and separate individual, therefore all those ‘made in his image’ are separate and individual.”
Sarai senses they are open to her understanding and knows she now doesn’t matter — she isn’t teacher, crone, guru or angel. She is merely the instrument of the passing. The wisdom will pass.
“The physical world is the masculine world,” Sarai continues calmly. “This is easy to grasp, but also masculine is the emotional, intellectual, and spiritual world, as far as modernity perceives it. The spiritual element of reality exists, but only as a shadow of the true spiritual nature of all things. The religions of the world call to a spiritual mother who was lost before birth. All religions give some direction to look beyond self and teach that we are part of the Sacred. In this they are true, but thousands of years of masculine enculturation have left us unable to let go of self and experience our true spiritual nature, the true nature of our cosmos.”
Kat and Jen are floating on a sea of words channelled by Sarai’s voice. “Our Source and Nature are one Spiritual Energy. At our soul we are not individuals, we are not ‘I’, we are not even ‘We’. The individual we recognise as self was meant to be a physical expression the soul could inhabit to experience the physical realm. Our spiritual nature is the same being as the universe. Spiritually we are one, a whole, full, connected one-ness. There is no separation at Soul level.
“The One-Soul has no needs, no enemies and no defences. One-Soul has no gender. If the human existence and all physical phenomena from our world disappeared it would be of little consequence to the world. However, if all humans disappear we deplete One-Soul, the Source. Humankin will have committed a wholly unnatural act that will harm the universe. I cannot allow it. To my knowledge I am the only earthly human who is knowingly in communion with One-Soul.”
Jen and Kat exchange raised eyebrows.
“Spiritual people arise from all faiths. Mystics of all cultures find ways to the One-Soul. I know you both resonate with the soul energy; it flows so fluidly around you. I perceived it when I first met you. I have waited years to find such women. Since then it has been a matter of time — and that time is now. We are going to commune — you may think of it as meditating. In so doing we will release our intellect and our identity, shed these worldly bodies, and be reunited with the Great Source, the Tao, the One-Soul. You are about to encounter the true nature of everything.”
Jen feels a surge of elation as she passes through emotional over-load to a state of stillness. Kat observes a docile peace on Jen’s face — a goofy expression of childlike enthusiasm, and wonders if she is wearing the right expression herself. She is jolted out of this ego management by the arrival of a nurse.
“You OK in here, love? Oh, hello, ladies, how’s she doing? Nothing happening?” Her conviviality is greeted with blankness. Jen rouses first. “We’re all great, thanks. Kat is fine, aren’t you, love?” Before Kat can offer agreement the nurse asks them to move away from the bed. She turns down the sheet. “Glad to hear it, always good to have your family around you in here. You’re lucky,” she says to Kat, “Could be another hour before we get you to theatre. I’ll just listen to baby’s heart.” There is a brief silence. “Baby is doing well, you’re fine, and you’re with family. The kitchen is just two doors down if you want a cup of tea,” and she bustles away to more urgent priorities.
Sarai brings their attention back to their circle by taking each woman’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. Kat has a tear in her eye. “You really are my family.” Jen leans in and kisses her forehead. “Thanks for being here. And thanks for what you’re sharing, Sarai. I didn’t mean to distract from what you are saying … thank you both for being here with me.”
Sarai runs her hand down Kat’s forearm. “We wouldn’t be anywhere else, Katrina.”
“Women have always gathered to support each other in childbirth,” Jen’s voice has a determination that takes her by surprise, “it is one of our rites gathering to support, something women have done for millennia.” Her face turns from Kat to Sarai. “I can feel the connection of those women before us … it is right that you share this with us now, around the support of childbirth, I can feel it.”
“I am glad you feel it. But now we are going to leave these limitations, this physical world, and return to our true nature. Close your eyes, my beloved sisters, close your eyes and breathe fully. Let the air relax your muscles, minds, and souls.”
Jen sits back in her bedside chair and Kat relaxes her head into the pillows stuffed behind her. Sarai’s voice changes to a chant. “You must trust me, trust me over your own instinct, instincts have been misguided by evolution, allow me to override the memory of your body and mind. You have my promise no harm will come to you in this journey. Breathe calmly and fully, open yourself to my words.” The old woman shifts in her chair, preparing for a sustained process. “Imagine yourself falling … gently falling through darkness. There is no fear, there is no animal instinct to recoil, you are flying, falling through darkness, there is nothing to crash into. We are falling together through space and time. As we fly, self will detach and fall away, we will release ourselves from personal identity … that is all your brain needs to know, and that we will return and there is nothing to fear. Your brain is moving into neutral. We are falling, floating, through loving peaceful darkness … as we fall we allow parts of our identity to disengage: intellect, culture, family traditions, your defences, perceptions, senses …” Sarai’s voice lulls them through an out-of-body experience. Relationships, joys, successes, challenges, heartaches, friends, enemies, release to her hypnotic suggestion. As each construct slips away they fall lighter and slower … until there is nothing left to … fall … everything has gone. “The space that we are falling through … is …us. We are the space … we are the fall … there is no us. There is One-Soul.
“Kat dear, come back to me … come back, gently call yourself in.” Sarai lets go of Kat’s hand and touches Jen’s shoulder. “My child, my sister, give thanks, leave your appreciation and return to us.”
The young women slowly open their eyes and return to the world. Jen has tears on her cheeks. Kat leans over to wipe them with a tissue from the packet on her locker. The touch becomes a hug with Sarai woven within them.
“Wowee,” whistles Kat. Sarai kisses her cheek. Words form and emerge slowly. “I felt it, I was there — I was among the One-Soul.”
Jen’s voice echoes her wonder. “Yes, I was there too, releasing self happened, it was profound … I thought I was completely alone and lost then I became aware …”
“Of everything,” picks up Kat. “Every direction around me was more of me, except it wasn’t me it was something else, the One-Soul. I was a part of the One-Soul, and ‘I’ wasn’t me. There was no ‘I’.”
Jen’s voice rises. “This is incredible. We experienced the same thing. I felt the whole spiritual system. I was expanding or absorbing into all directions and all dimensions.”
Sarai’s voice comes warmly. “You returned to your original nature, reconnected with the Source of All, and were the One-Soul. You were awakened from potentiality to actuality. You didn’t feel it or experience it, you were it.”
A sense of euphoria lingers in the three women. They fall silent, each enjoying the strange combination of energy and calm. Eventually a nurse disturbs them. “We’ll be taking you up to theatre in about 15 minutes.”
Sarai kisses Kat on the forehead. “You are like a daughter to me. You are a daughter to me. I know everything is going to be fine.”
The remark does not sit comfortably with Kat, or Jen. That Sarai feels a need to say things will be OK is out of place. What is not OK?
“I am going to the chapel to pray — it’s what old ladies do when they are not playing an active part in the birthing support.” She runs a hand over Kat’s shoulder and drip-fed arm and turns, adding, “Pray, and maybe dance some good news.”
Dance? Jen shoots a look at Kat. What is going on in Sarai’s head? Their eyes twinkle. They are thinking the same thing. Kat brings her free hand to her mouth, smothering the threatening giggle. As Sarai passes through the door she too has a smile on her face.
~ ~ ~ | ~ ~ ~
Kat has been mentally preparing herself for the pushing and the pain for weeks. She would like to be an earth mother. Instead she has this unexpected drama with tubes inserted in unlikely places. It’s frightening. Is Baby OK? Will she be OK? When the surgeon made the incision she didn’t feel a thing but now she can feel his hands rummaging inside her innards. She looks from Jen to Sarai, gowned and masked, hovering either side of her. Their eyes beam encouragement. Sarai is holding her hand. She knows Jen would have the other if it wasn’t occupied with a drip and clamp.
The surgeon says, “Time to push now.”
Push! How can she push when she can’t feel? The anaesthetist slips her arms under Kat’s shoulders, raising her so she can see. She is overawed by the sight of the surgeon’s arms disappearing inside her abdomen, then, with a rush of excitement, follows the instruction to push. Her half-paralysed body feebly bears down. There is a sucking sound and her child is wrested through the narrow hole by the surgeon and held above her. Crying! Alive! Splaying toes!
“A girl,” announces the surgeon.
A flurry of action follows. Baby is whisked to a heated table, examined by the young paediatrician and pronounced well. Within minutes the wrapped bundle is laid in Kat’s arms. Soft gingery hair covers her head in damp clumps. Knowing, gunmetal eyes blink open and fasten on Kat. There are no words adequate to describe the connection Kat feels.
“She is beautiful,” says Jen, “Absolutely perfect.”
~ ~ ~ | ~ ~ ~
Sarai is on a high. All is well, wonderfully well. Her initiates were able to experience One-Soul. Her task is reaching completion. The safe arrival of the baby is good news indeed.
~ ~ ~ | ~ ~ ~