Dark Goddess Hag of Earth

The Hag of Earth reversed – this is the second time this week I’ve drawn her staring, pitiless gaze.  Today she speaks to me of secrets hidden and denied over the years.  Familial secrets, community secrets, those deep, dark secrets that impact everyone even they are unaware of its existence.  It makes me think of tales told in my community about neighbors whom “everyone knew” were living in dangerous circumstances (abusive husbands being the most prevalent) and yet no one did anything.  I often believe that the tellers feel guilty about not helping in any way and tell the tale in an effort to make it seem less serious.  At the same time the guilt leaves a scar on the person’s psyche and on the community’s psyche.  The Hag of Earth observes these actions or lack thereof and records them on our souls.  She does not judge or shame, simply watches with her pitiless, blank eyes.

The Cailleach, old woman of the mountains who drops stones from her skirt to build them.  Her blue skin and red hair combined with having only one eye in the center of her forehead give her a strange, frightful appearance.  She seems to move lightly across the mountainous peaks, her stone-filled apron no real burden to her.  She is the crone of winter, cold and darkness.  Although she often uses those stones to make the mountains higher, I think in this instance she is removing some of the boulders for me.  She is clearing the way to help me move forward on my healing journey.

The Hag of Earth tells me that my tale is recorded in the very stones of the earth.  I can choose to ignore it but that will not make it go away.  Denial is not the way to heal from this situation.  The Cailleach on the 8 of Earth reminds me that the stones must be moved in order for me to progress.  She can help take them away but I must decide to move ahead once the way is clear.  She Who Watches sees the scars on my psyche, even if I try to deny or ameliorate their impact.  The Cailleach can help me remove the boulders upon which these scars are inscribed but I need to ask for her help and actually do the work once she had cleared them.

That scares me – I’ve had these scars for so long I’m not sure I can let them go.  They are part of me and yet they aren’t.  They are the me I am now.  If those scars had never formed who knows who I might have become?  Maybe removing those scars, healing those wounds, will allow me to find out the answer to that question.  These darkly divine ladies offer the terrifying vision of hope.  Hope and the possibility of healing can be frightening and overwhelming, especially to somehow who has abandoned all hope.  I think these two tough ladies are showing me that I can heal – it might not be easy but it can happen if I’m willing to do the work.