Words by Elena Riu
Last week, I met with a group of young girls for their first Coming of Age Circle of the season—which happened to fall on the Autumn Equinox—and I used this story as the main focus for the session.
It is a reworking of the myth of Persephone, which explains the Seasons. She is the goddess of Spring, flowers and fertility and is cared for by Demeter, her Mother, goddess of the harvest. In the original, she meanders away from Demeter and is abducted by Hades , the underworld God. In my version, instead of centering my story on Hades kidnapping Persephone (all about the male principle), I reworked the story and chose to focus on the underworld as an allegory for Inner Winter (the menstrual phase of our cycle) and rest as the feminine principle in action. Hades becomes Earth, and I use the story to plant the seeds of a deep understanding for the need for rest in this phase of the cycle. Creating a fairy-tale-like introduction to the bleed, is a good way to introduce a conversation around menstruation as a magical and natural rite of passage.
As Persephone honours her Inner Winter by going into hibernation, Demeter’s reproductive power wanes until the re-emergence of spring. For things to grow and flourish we need the balm of rest. Living in big cities filled with noise pollution and hyper-activity leaves little room for down-time. Being on the go 24/7 is like a relentless summer, a sensory over-indulgence. Young girls will be living in households where there will be little or no awareness of cyclical living and most women suffer from ‘rest-guilt’. There is very little modelling of down-time and self-care for girls to counteract the 24/7 toxic productivity we are living in, because often, for the Mum/Female Caregiver’s, down- time is an inaccessible dream. I chose to share this story followed by a delicious Yoga Nidra to give them permission to lie down, daydream and recover.
Many moons ago, in a land not too distant from yours, with a sun and a moon high above in the sky, a mother and a daughter enjoyed a special closeness. Demeter (the mother), and Persephone (the daughter), spent their days roaming fields and forests with unbounded freedom.
Animals and plants were their kin; they worshipped at the temple of the trees and delighted in close encounters with the Elements. They dared each other to jump over fires, traverse raging rivers, climb the craggiest summits and sail the fiercest winds. They could out-run any man, so prowess -proud, fiercely in love with their bodies and trusting in their power they were.
The Summer months seemed everlasting. Mother and Daughter were foot loose and fancy free and lived off their foraging. They wore rose-petalled crowns, stained their cheeks with berry juice and wore the clothes they made from hemp and wool.
As the wheel of the seasons started to turn, Demeter just carried on’ business as usual’, but it wasn’t the same for Persephone. Don’t get me wrong, she loved the radiance of heat and the light, the giddy expansiveness, the carefree life, but deep inside, mirroring Nature’s miss-en-scene outside, she felt that her inner Sun was dimming. Her mood changed. She started to feel more inquisitive and thoughtful , and pestered Demeter with more and more questions about life and death and the nature of change.
Then, as the wind’s first whispers took hold, and she witnessed the withering of the leaves all around her, Persephone started to grow restless and weary, and noticed that her body started to covet warmth and stillness.
She just couldn’t keep up with Demeter’s unbridled energy and endless appetite for sport…. The louder Demeter’s yowling grew, the deeper Persephone withdrew, further into the cave of Her Self. She felt a new energy within, a jagged descent, an inward turning. She heard a new calling that she couldn’t explain.
No longer compliant with Demeter’s incessant summer rave, Persephone noticed a raging ‘NO’ pulsating and scratching to emerge from every part of her body.
As the Autumn settled – robed in gold, orange and ochre hues, she was unable to shake off the strange feeling that had been shadowing her for the past few days. As time’s pages turned, solitude’s craving found her.
In a bid to hide away from her mother, Persephone wandered deeper into the forest until she found an enchanting clearing, where does and elks drunk from a crystalline pond.
Persephone inhaled deeply and took in the awe-inspiring colours and the intimate melody of the softly falling leaves. A thick thread of tiredness wove a blanket around her. She looked for a place to rest her weary bones.
Nothing stirred. Suddenly, Father Crow cowed, and as she looked behind her, she noticed a faint trace of red on the ground. A crimson web spreading thinly on the earth. Persephone felt a lukewarm trickle between her legs. In her heart, an ancestral memory awakened, and she realised that the red was her own blood: it had left a ruby trail of transformation behind her.
She had heard about this initiation from the many clan stories Demeter had shared with her, and suddenly, she had an epiphany: the moon had waned inside her. Persephone looked at the doe. It’s ebony eyes, reflecting the dark sky above, glanced back at her with a knowing look…
A veil as deep as snow and as heavy as velvet enveloped Persephone, rooting her down. The relief of exhaustion anchored her and Mother Earth beckoned with the sweetest song. Before surrendering, Persephone, as her mother and grandmother had done before her, laid down her crimson offering for Gaia.
As she did so, Earth slowly unfolded her arms and welcomed her deep into her bosom. Brother Owl had flown ahead, laying down a feathered pillow for her.
Persephone’s breathing softened iridescent, wrapping around her and signalling that the dream time had begun.
Nestling deeply in Earth’s steady embrace, finding solace and nurture in her inviting darkness, she allowed her body to let go of all striving. As the new moon opened its eyes above her, Persephone dived into the silence receiving streaming visions: horses and chariots paraded before her closed eyes, exotic gardens with alluring scarlet fruits ripened before her. The muted playground of rest surrounded her, flooding every cell in her body, and creating infinite space for the glimmer of future to emerge. Persephone pulled Winter’s sleep-drenched wings over her and rest befell her.
Many moons later, when the first narcissus shone their startled heads above the soil, the Phoenix’s fiery premonitory coat, heralding resurrection, appeared to Persephone in a liminal dream. Tossing away the frosted wings of Winter, she would re- emerge, crisp, revived and restored.
The energy she drew from Gaia’s soothing retreat sprung forth like a torrent. Shaking her dazzling mane with a pugnacious flourish, Persephone arose, rejoining Demeter at Spring’s bejewelled fairground.
