Jane and Gene Elsdon

In Search of a New Mythology

My awareness of the need for a new mythology was initially stirred most notably in the late eighties when Joseph Campbell's compelling series appeared on PBS.  It was in the early nineties when I met Beverly Ensing, an expert Rolfer and a self-taught painter. She told me of the Jungian dream work she was doing with a Chumash nun. It turned out that I was doing the same thing almost at the same time with the same inspiring woman and a women's group.

We became close friends. Bev called me her spirit mother. We created two limited edition art books together:   SINGING DREAMS INTO FORM , 1996; THE LIVING DREAM, 1997. These books were brought out at an exhibit of Beverly's haunting primitive paintings, largely because of her painting teacher, Ken Haggard's, support, enthusiasm, and generosity.  Each art book was introduced at Linnaea's in January of the year it was copyrighted, with an exhibit and poetry reading of the poems I wrote to interpet her paintings for her viewers . They sold out almost immediately.

During one of our numerous conversations on the search for a new mythology, initially inspired by Campbell's series, Bev mentioned also having an idea for a story. In a few sentences she told me the basic idea she had and I fell in love with it. She told me her dream that I would write the story and see it launched into the world.  I told her I would write the story and we would publish it as a collaboration, never dreaming she wouldn't be here when the time came. Beverly [Ensing]Young passed away in April 2008. She read and approved the manuscript long before her demise. But as all things on earth manage to do – evolve or devolve – the story has evolved and it hasn't been published until now.

In February 2013 another young woman, Alison Penfield, who has called me her other mother since she was seven-years-old, came from Ashland, Oregon to visit. Again the conversation moved to the desire for new myths. I didn't want to dig for the manuscript at the time, but I told her I would email it to her. I did so recently and received a call from her at once. She told me all the reasons she thought I should publish it.  She urged me to “get it out there.”  I have decided there's no better place and time than here and now.

The Golden Ball  

It happened in the cool of sunrise, when the world was young and tribes of earth were small.  Together, Mother and Father God strolled in their favorite garden.  Tenderness filled their voices as they spoke of their most beloved subject, their children. These children lived in all the far flung lands of earth.

Father God spoke of all the facts there are to know.  Mother God spoke of all the truths there are to learn.  They spoke of all things deep and wide, high and true.  They wanted each of their children to have these things.

How could they make sure that one child not receive more than another?  That each would know?  That each would find the truth?  After much pondering, finally they decided to create a special sacrament of truth.  They would bake a loaf of truth and break bread together.

When they entered their gleaming kitchen, Mother God brought out a wondrous crystal bowl that shone with the light of heaven.  With great care she measured into it all the truths she and Father God possessed.  They sprinkled in everything they knew of nature from amoebae to zygote and all of zoology from alligators to zebras, the beauties of lakes, rivers, waterfalls, shining seas,  peaceful isles to desert spaces, mountain ranges, caves, rain forests, and other wondrous wooded places.

For nutrition and extra flavor, they added seeds of plant life from all over the earth – vegetables, trees, and flowers – and an extract of mirth, a dolphin smile, dogs and cats, mice and birds, at ease with each other, and almost any wildlife or human form willing to mother another.

They spiced the mix with angels and dragons, serpents and unicorns, poetry, planets, songs, and stars.  They sifted in inspiration and creativity, discovery and wonder, enchantment and mystery for the great adventure.  With caution, they blended in the secrets of locks and keys, chasms and bridges, bulbs and blossoms, dream and direction, soul and spirit and stone.  With keen attention, they combined the magic of fire and ice, light and darkness, smoke and mirrors.  They folded in gifts of work and play, beauty and challenge, joy and pain, forgiveness and peace, grace and harmony.  At last, they leavened the contents with love.

Mother God kneaded the dough to a cloud-like lightness.  Father God shaped the loaf into a circle.  They allowed it to rise into a perfect sphere.  Together they placed it in the center of the oven to bake.  When it was finished, they brought forth a shining golden ball.

After it cooled, they wrapped it in blessings and took it high into the heavens over the planet earth to celebrate a sacrament of truth.  As the blue and green earth whirled on its planetary dance beneath them, Mother and Father God unwrapped the golden ball, releasing countless blessings to drift down upon their children below.

Together they broke bread.  As they ate of the loaf, pieces of the golden ball fell upon the planet earth. They fell from the North Pole to the South Pole.  They fell on every continent, peninsula, and island.  They fell on every ocean, lake, river, and stream.  They fell on desert, forest, plain, and mountain.  They fell among people of every tribe, culture, creed, climate, and color.

Mother and Father God looked down upon their children and smiled.  They knew that none of them, alone, had  the whole truth, but now each of them had precious portions of the truth.  Only together would they ever find the whole truth.

And that is why whenever we meet someone from a different country, someone of a different language, a different belief or color, lifestyle or outlook, we must remember this: You have a piece of the truth.  I have a piece of the truth.  Each of us has a piece of the truth.  So it is of the utmost importance that we listen with great care to each other.  We must truly listen.  Listen and learn.  For it is only in coming together with genuine respect, listening with the ears of the heart, talking and working together, that we can ever hope to find the Truth of the Whole.

Butterfly Banner Image by David Farris

All content copyright Slo Coast Journal and Jane / Gene Elsdon. Do not use without express written permission.