esson 40: Guinevere

 

  awaken in the grass, not at dawn, but full morning. As I rub the sleep from my eyes, I see a woman sitting nearby and spinning. She has such an aura about her that I know she must be Queen Guinevere. She finishes spinning off the last of the wool, turns a warm smile to me and says, "I have ravelled out your thread and see, you are here. Rest now, and be refreshed after your journey."

   It's rather frightening to think that she has the power over me which she has implied. But I obey her, as she takes a familiar-looking heart-shaped cup from a fold in her skirt, and uses it to fetch me a drink of milk from her white cow.

   I accept it gratefully, as I have acquired quite a taste for milk since coming to this realm. As I drink it, my perception is opened to my own inner goodness and beauty. And, while I'd like to look only at the good, I see that all the qualities are balanced out: I am humble, yet vain; generous and selfish; caring and self-centered; outgoing and shy; a rule-following wild woman.

   I can't make sense of it, really. I don't think that the scales should be perfectly balanced. I think that they should tip in favor of caring for others, i.e. LOVE. But where does self-love fit in? Without it, people would be suicidal. Does it only serve as a survival mechanism? Or are we created and intended to "enjoy all things of sense and rapture"? Ah well, all part of the mystery of being human, I guess.

   I dedicate the "humanitarian" aspects to the service of Guinevere and mankind. The "selfish" aspects I'll keep to myself! She gets the last drop of milk from the cup and dabs it in the middle of my breast, blessing the goodness of my heart. She is incredibly skilled with her hands, and while I have been contemplating my opposing traits, she has knitted a shawl out of "my" thread, which she now wraps around me in the most caring, sisterly way. It reminds me of the way (Mother) Nature covers the earth with a white blanket of snow, to protect it so that new life can emerge again in spring. And I realize that she understands about selfishness . . . and secrets. She has plenty of her own.


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