If There Was No More Time 2: I Know Who You Are

I know who you are, who you really are. A few years ago, an astrologer from Savannah asked me if believed in past lives. I said no, but it would explain a few things. I had just come back from Sicily, where I visited the ruins of a temple to the Aphrodite on the top of Mount Erice.

Once called Eryx, the mountain's first king was supposedly Aphrodite's demigod son. Eryx is described by Virgil in The Aeneid, as the brother of Aeneas.

When I went there, I hadn't researched Erice beforehand. At every turn, the place offered moments of déjà vu. The Fitzgerald translation of The Aeneid is my favourite epic. Two lines always stay with me: I sing of warfare and a man at war. And: Unlucky Dido, burning, in her madness, Roamed through all the city, like a doe, Hit by an arrow shot from far away.

Cithara Improvisation by Peter Pringle (6 October 2017). Video Source: Youtube.

Walking into that town was like stepping into a pre-ordained site of fateful repetition. The place glows with Mediterranean beauty and the temple ruins (below) still radiate mythological and mystical power.

The ruins radiate other energies, too. The temple to Aphrodite on the mountaintop was later dedicated to Venus when the Romans took over. It served as a lighthouse and maintained a perpetual fire for sailors to find their way. At its height, the resident cult of the goddess of love featured 5,000 sacred prostitute priestesses who served the whole Mediterranean.

Their fertility orgies went on for a long time, as the island was occupied, century after century, by soldiers: the Elymians, the Carthaginians, the Greeks, the Romans, the Muslims, and the Normans.

After Christianity was introduced, the cult of Venus was transformed into worship of Mary and the prostitute priestesses were demoted. They became an order of cloistered nuns. You can be sure that before the Romans shut this operation down, the generals and centurions went in for one last hurrah. The nuns have been shuttered away in a convent ever since, for over 1,700 years. They are now cut off from the public, relegated to making Erice's famous cookies and marzipan pastries. It has been a strange fall from the extremes of passion's graces.

There are some very old Christian churches in Erice, where you can see the evolution of Mary from the 4th century to the 6th century CE. In the earliest versions, she looks Venusian, like she's just come off a rough night, robe askew. Her long, flowing hair is tumbling down; she's standing on a seashell; and the Baby Jesus is hanging on by one fingernail. In the later churches in Erice, she is shrouded head to toe in the familiar blue robes and becomes the frozen, abiding Virgin Mary of modern Catholic churches. In the most recent churches, she is not even present, replaced by patriarchal statues of bearded Church fathers.

Every step in Erice is a dreamy portal into the deep past. The sunsets are bubblegum pink. Bathing in floods of pink light every gorgeous evening was shocking to my drab Canadian sensibilities. These photos were taken as is, no filters or edits.

To my surprise and with no foreknowledge, much of the local history in Erice was already reflected in my story collection, Isis Chrysalis. The book, which is in progress, concerns the rise of a Dark Matter goddess, who is confined to the other side of a mirrored reality.

The video game clip below is set in Kythira, Greece, which was also dedicated to Aphrodite; the atmosphere is similar to what I encountered in the temple ruins in Sicily.

Assassin's Creed Odyssey : Find and interact with the symbol on the Statue of Aphrodite # Kytheran (8 November 2018). Video Source: Youtube.

If there was no more time, I would say this to the person for whom this message is intended. Today is Easter Monday. Instead of the usual symbols, I found myself over the past week thinking of the Jerusalem Cross. Normally associated with the Crusaders, it was indicated to me by my friend, -C., as the strongest symbolic defense against wounds and negative intentions aimed at one in the past.

Image Source: Cobra Tactical Solutions.

This cross is supposed to represent, among other things, Jesus and his five wounds, or Jesus and the Four Gospels, or Catholicism taken to the four corners of the earth, north, south, east, and west.

I'm not Catholic, and when I look at the cross, I see a scheme that looks like the human anatomy of the four chambers of the heart. This interpretation would be a more subtle indicator of Christ's power, as it prioritizes the heart, love, and forgiveness over the idea of sacrifice and resurrection, which are the primary connotations of a Christian cross. The little crosses look like the red crosses of medicine. The Jerusalem Cross seems appropriate for protection during a viral pandemic which partly attacks the heart, at a time when we all need our hearts to be healed.

Those are my thoughts on the matter. I know who you are, who you really are. Do you?

Julius Caesar Bust Sculpture ‘in Toga’, 20th Century. Image Source: Etsy.

A Note on 'If There Was No More Time' Posts

To follow up on my February 2020 posts, If There Was No More Time and The Coronavirus Consciousness, I am doing a series of posts here with cryptic testimonies to and about particular people and situations. Given the nCov pandemic, there are some things I should say, in case the clock is ticking more quickly than usual. If it isn't, these posts can be taken as some personal statements about themes in my work.

This post provides background to the title novella in my novel-in-stories, Isis Chrysalis. My pinterest board for "Isis Chrysalis" is here, with supporting boards for some of the characters: Isis, Lucia, and the secondary characters. Isis Chrysalis is about a Dark Matter goddess, inadvertently freed by an archaeological team at an ancient cave site.