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In shame Eve hides her nakedness. Asherah celebrates hers. Many Asherah icons (described as false idols) are pillar-shaped, with sacred breasts, yoni-portals and Hathor wigs, suggesting her primordial, fertility magic had reach. Asherah, Ashtoreth, Elath, Athtar, Asthtar, Astar, Astarte and Ishtar are avatars of the same Goddess, suggesting fluidity. The Goddess morphs depending on people’s needs and location. She blows in the wind, rolls with the river and moves with the cosmos. She is not static and fixed in the sky. Love in the time of Asherah was far more free.
Asherah’s symbolism shape-shifts from tree to vulva expressing the unfettered scrolling and unfurling of nature’s fertility, in an ecstatic release of healing, renewal, and enlightenment, rippling out into the yoni-verse as a loud, tantric and rapturous OHM.
Let’s put our eco-feminist crowns on, go out into the night and walk beneath this cloak of stars, pondering the ghosts of desecrated forests. Let’s sit with the cutting; the burning; the felling of trees; the desecration of nature; land, devoid of shade, parched and ashen; the Goddess destroyed; Divine Female wisdom trod beneath the rubble. No other species is destroying its own home (Mother Earth), or pummelling life with such endless violence.
Eyes and knuckles locked in an epic battle across the beating heart of Mother Earth, the centre of self, the still point around which all else spins, Asherah is staring down the unhoused, man-beast archetype. The depths of knowledge pooling in her eyes pre-date his. She’s challenging the belief that the psycho-socio-sexual-politico-emotional world order, set up for men, justifies abuse, violence and destruction. She’s reflecting this abuse, violence and destruction back at him. She’s telling him the separation of consciousness is illusionary. Goddess is in every living thing, not outside and above.
Not power over.
Empowerment of.
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