The Possibilities of the Yule

The Possibilities of the Yule

by P. H. Tiger Snake Lockwood

Birth leads to possibilities — from the heart of chaos rose the Mother,
Euronyme. In Chaos, there is still order. Within what is orderly is Chaos. She
arose from that Chaos, and in her movement, spread Chaos. In her spread of
Chaos, She formed order. Movement begets movement, spreading outward, that
which is colliding haphazardly with other parts of itself. Her awareness let
her know it was cold, so she danced to warm herself. If it were possible to be
cold, it was possible to be warm. If it were possible to stand still, it was
possible to move. Her dance created movement in all things.

What was beneath her feet moved in relation to her.  The stars all around her
moved, both in her vision, and of their own accord. The cold about her moved
and stirred and became the wind. She caught the North Wind, and by forming it
in her hands she made Orphion.

Orphion became aware. He became aroused by Euronyme’s dancing. They joined as Euronyme danced, and that which came from the joining had its’ own awareness. Each awareness, while it was common for all to have awareness, was unique in it’s perspective.

The power of awareness was new and disturbing. Orphion was aware of his part in creation, and became boastful. Euronyme, aware of Orphion’s boasts, aware of
having made Orphion herself, became angry. She stomped on the slithering
braggart’s head to remind him of the facts.

Each awareness that became had similar problems with the new power of this
awareness. They became so enamored of their uniqueness, awareness of others
lessened. Some became aware of the intoxication of awareness, and sought to
harness the power to prevent damage. Others did not, and they ended their time
quarreling. Many learned something of the intoxicating power of awareness, but
became confused as the powerproved dynamic, instead of static. How to
comprehend, even apprehend, the power of awareness, and avoid it’s intoxication was the question of the many. All became plunged into a darkness and cold, a void.

Awareness has many possibilities. If one looks deeply enough into their own
awareness, a face will be seen looking back. The face is not the skin over the
muscles and bones of one’s own skull, but it can be recognized as one’s own.
Yet, it does not belong exclusively to oneself. When one looks at others, still
that face will be seen looking back. To whom does this face belong then? What
is possible in that face? Recognition is shocking, and painful.

The dark night of the soul lay upon many. The many children of
She-Who-Has-Many- Names scattered over the world. They quarreled and fought, and committed atrocities against one another. Survivors of one atrocity would plot and overthrow those who had persecuted them. In victory, they committed atrocities of their own.

It was in this time of darkness and cold that something stirred once again. It
was something that had begun sometime before, but had to grow in the darkness Due to the cold, it had to be kept warm.

The darkness and cold was puzzling to many. The sun was close to the Earth, but
seemed so small, and its rays did little to warm the land. Rain fell as white
crystals, covering everything instead of being absorbed into the ground. Breath
was a white vapor that left the mouth as one spoke, and left the nostrils as
one breathed.

In the night sky, the stars moved, but the axis had shifted. The only thing
that continued, seemingly unchanged, was the moon. As the nights grew longer
her white form still hung in the sky, following her cycle. And the women
continued their own cycles, much like Hers. On that longest, coldest of nights,
another birth occurred. What had stirred in darkness, and had to be kept warm,
was brought forth in the pale light and scant warmth. What was born that night
was a male child whose face is the one all recognized as the one they have seen
before.

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The Possibilities of the Yule

The Possibilities of the Yule

by P. H. Tiger Snake Lockwood

Birth leads to possibilities — from the heart of chaos rose the Mother,
Euonymus. In Chaos, there is still order. Within what is orderly is Chaos. She
arose from that Chaos, and in her movement, spread Chaos. In her spread of
Chaos, She formed order. Movement begets movement, spreading outward, that
which is colliding haphazardly with other parts of itself. Her awareness let
her know it was cold, so she danced to warm herself. If it were possible to be
cold, it was possible to be warm. If it were possible to stand still, it was
possible to move. Her dance created movement in all things.

What was beneath her feet moved in relation to her.  The stars all around her
moved, both in her vision, and of their own accord. The cold about her moved
and stirred and became the wind. She caught the North Wind, and by forming it
in her hands she made Orphion.

Orphion became aware. He became aroused by Euronyme’s dancing. They joined as Euronyme danced, and that which came from the joining had its’ own awareness. Each awareness, while it was common for all to have awareness, was unique in it’s perspective.

The power of awareness was new and disturbing. Orphion was aware of his part in creation, and became boastful. Euronyme, aware of Orphion’s boasts, aware of
having made Orphion herself, became angry. She stomped on the slithering
braggart’s head to remind him of the facts.

Each awareness that became had similar problems with the new power of this
awareness. They became so enamored of their uniqueness, awareness of others
lessened. Some became aware of the intoxication of awareness, and sought to
harness the power to prevent damage. Others did not, and they ended their time
quarreling. Many learned something of the intoxicating power of awareness, but
became confused as the powerproved dynamic, instead of static. How to
comprehend, even apprehend, the power of awareness, and avoid it’s intoxication was the question of the many. All became plunged into a darkness and cold, a void.

Awareness has many possibilities. If one looks deeply enough into their own
awareness, a face will be seen looking back. The face is not the skin over the
muscles and bones of one’s own skull, but it can be recognized as one’s own.
Yet, it does not belong exclusively to oneself. When one looks at others, still
that face will be seen looking back. To whom does this face belong then? What
is possible in that face? Recognition is shocking, and painful.

The dark night of the soul lay upon many. The many children of
She-Who-Has-Many- Names scattered over the world. They quarreled and fought, and committed atrocities against one another. Survivors of one atrocity would plot and overthrow those who had persecuted them. In victory, they committed atrocities of their own.

It was in this time of darkness and cold that something stirred once again. It
was something that had begun sometime before, but had to grow in the darkness.
Due to the cold, it had to be kept warm.

The darkness and cold was puzzling to many. The sun was close to the Earth, but
seemed so small, and its rays did little to warm the land. Rain fell as white
crystals, covering everything instead of being absorbed into the ground. Breath
was a white vapor that left the mouth as one spoke, and left the nostrils as
one breathed.

In the night sky, the stars moved, but the axis had shifted. The only thing
that continued, seemingly unchanged, was the moon. As the nights grew longer
her white form still hung in the sky, following her cycle. And the women
continued their own cycles, much like Hers. On that longest, coldest of nights,
another birth occurred. What had stirred in darkness, and had to be kept warm,
was brought forth in the pale light and scant warmth. What was born that night
was a male child whose face is the one all recognized as the one they have seen
before.