0 comments/ 4061 views/ 0 favorites It's Not Easy to Be a Love Goddess Ch. 04 By: Cheleste All too soon, it was time for me to resume the duties of my priesthood. It had been a lovely sabbatical, but I heard the voices in my heart, sending out their prayers for deliverance and succor, and I knew I must answer them. So we spent our days with Angela, and made appointments in the evening. Darian came along in his invisible form, and watched over me as I performed the liturgies. Now, I know this is a concept you inhabitants of the lower vibration don't grasp very well, but try to imagine that Darian understood so deeply his place in my heart that, rather than feel jealous, he entered into the rapture with which my adherents were taken, and felt the ecstasy as surely as I did at the moment of transformation. After all, he was an angel. He had attained that state with infinite patience, diligent dedication, and pure intent. He was a celestial present to me, and I treasured him as such. There were many early morning hours that he ministered to me after a proselyte had gone home, sending energy through me to multiply the effect of the few hours of sleep I would get before Angela's insistent cries summoned me to her cradle. * * * * * * * * * Each of my recruits was unique and special. The love I bore them made manifest their myriad qualities, characteristics, and personalities. I never stopped marveling at the variety and intricacy with which the Creative Vortex had produced so prolific a harvest. While there were many things about them that were the same, one only had to look closer to see both subtle and blatant differences. Many of them made use of the sacrament of confession, either before or after consecration. They told me many things, both true and untrue, and I heard them all with equanimity. Occasionally, tears would flow when the Jewel settled within their heart, causing its calcified casing to crack and release unresolved memories, long-lost emotions, and forgotten pain. How many broken hearts I was then able to bind up, soothe, and strengthen with the healing balm of compassion and the cauterizing White Fire of Cosmic Oneness. This especially happened with men who were middle-aged and older. None of them was the same when they left me. And I too was changed by each of them. I learned something new from every one of them, and was stunned by the number who told me that I was the first person from whom they had ever felt real love and acceptance. Oh, how I was needed in this place! * * * * * * * * * My practice was going very well, until I met Barry. Barry was a rare bird. I was having a little lunch by myself at the sandwich shop inside the health store where we liked to buy our groceries, while Darian romped at home with Angela. He was probably giving her a "Pegasus ride" on his back at that very moment, as that was her favorite, and she could hold on to the edge of his wings with her delicate hands and not fall off. Barry asked if he could join me at my table and I welcomed him, as opportunities like this often provided me with another neophyte to bring into the fold. He was very friendly, held my gaze with self-assurance, emanated an aura of goodwill and found lots of stimulating subjects about which to converse. He was learned and educated, yet not in the least pompous about it; and, in a word, a joy to talk with. He told me the history behind a recent museum exhibition, and asked if I would like to visit it with him. I replied that I would love to go. Darian gave his blessing to my museum excursion, and we both agreed that the situation was safe enough for me to go without him. If Barry became enamored on this meeting, I could bring him to the Temple afterward, but I sensed from his manner that he was a slow burner, and most of my potential converts didn't usually propose a visit to the Temple until the third date, anyway. So we spent a gratifying afternoon at the museum during which I learned a great deal of history I had never known before. Barry smiled ingratiatingly at me as we prepared to part, and asked if I would accompany him to a French film at the little Bijou downtown next weekend. I though that too sounded fun. And the darkness of the theater would offer the opportunity to activate his vibrations and stir them toward liberation. Darian would come with us this time as our unseen guest. Barry met us at the appointed time, and I took his arm with my hand as we entered the Bijou and he purchased our tickets. We found a spot in the cozy theater, and he left to get a bag of popcorn. I could sense Darian's waiting expectancy, as I also anticipated the joyous Union that would crown this night. Barry was certainly pumped and primed for action. The film was French, and I took advantage of a steamy scene to stroke the back of Barry's neck and touch my hand to his thigh. He put his hand over mine, gently rubbing his fingers over it. I detected the slightest increase in the rate of his breath, and the quick intake of air when I moved my hand a little further up his thigh. I savored every moment of the anticipation, through all two and a half hours of the movie, holding the energy in my body and allowing it to ooze out of my pores in gentle baptism; all the while, enjoying the film, caught up in the pathos, and busy reading the subtitles! The dim lights of the theater were kind to our eyes as we rose to leave. Barry put his arm around me, and offered to give me a ride home. That seemed portentous. But when we got into the car, the gear shift stood like a chaperon between us, and the cold air seemed to have chilled Barry's mood. He drove in silence, and didn't get out of the car when we arrived at the Temple, but said his good-bye from his side of the car. I was surprised, if not to say disappointed, as I had been prepared for ignition. He said he would call me. Darian made up for Barry's shortfall, and once again I was reminded of what a blessing Darian's presence was to me. * * * * * * * * * After as many dates again, Barry seemed no closer to execution of the rites, and I was becoming discouraged. It was always the same pattern. We would have fun and enjoy each other's company. I would make some subtle overtures; he would begin to respond; and then he would abruptly shut down. Frankly, I had never had a case so reticent. The shy ones often turned out to be the most eager, once I made my offer apparent; and even the slow ones had never taken this long before. Barry was setting a record in my books! I decided a straightforward approach might work better. I suggested we go to dinner, and while I had him captive across the table, I told him that I very much wanted to join with him and offer the gift of my body. He looked stunned at first, but then his face lit up. He said in halting phrases, "I . . . have been thinking about marriage, too. But . . . this is . . . much too soon to be considering that . . .yet." "Oh," I said, rather stupidly. "Uh . . . I wasn't talking about marriage . . ." "You weren't?" he asked, stunned again, and then embarrassed. He looked at the table, at the wall; anywhere but at me. "Oh, geez. Oh gosh. I'm . . .not that kind of guy. I'm . . . waiting for marriage, and . . ." My erudite and well-spoken companion was suddenly dumb-struck, and terribly like a bashful schoolboy. And I, who had always known what to do with bashful schoolboys, was mystified. Why could I not kindle a flame in him that didn't flicker out before it even got started? This man had a mighty will, to be able to override the advances I had made. I thought perhaps if I could explain to him that I was a love goddess, that my life was dedicated to administering the Jewel of Liberation to the men I met. He was versed in Egyptian, Greek, and Roman cultural history. Perhaps if he knew that I had been a virgin sacrifice . . . that I had served in the Temples of Ishtar, Isis, Aphrodite, Venus . . . Don't ask me why I thought this would make any sense to this man. It made sense to me. But it prompted him to gasp with shock and begin to give me the entire history of the life and death of Jesus of Nazareth and to conclude with the warning that I should "repent and turn from my wicked ways!" At that, I gave up, and Barry took me home. I was saddened by his reaction, but I wasn't going to force myself on him. My gift of Love was free for all to take, but all were free to reject it, I realized with chagrin. Darian tried to cheer me up, but I just had to grieve for a while. Healers lose patients sometimes, but it's still hard to understand why. * * * * * * * * * Barry called on the phone a week later. I thought perhaps he was reconsidering my offer. He invited me out for an afternoon. We talked and laughed as if there had never been a rift. I had hope for his salvation once more. Then he sat down with me on a park bench and told me that he loved me. I knew he was sincere, and that his heart was reaching out to me. But then the struggle of his soul became apparent, as he told me that Jesus loved me too, and was willing to forgive me if I would go and sin no more, like the woman taken in adultery. Well, I had spoken with Jesus in the Ethers before I came. In fact, we had done much more than speak. And I already knew He loved me passionately, because He was part of the Tribunal which had sent me here; but I didn't bother to tell Barry that. I just thanked him for his concern, and said that I would consider it an honor to consummate the love I knew he bore me. That wasn't the answer he was hoping for. He offered then to take me home, telling me he was going to continue to love me no matter what. "Why are you frustrating your love for me?" I thought. "If you love me, then come to me, and I will give you rest!" But I didn't say it because I knew it wouldn't help. Barry had strange ideas about the nature of love. He seemed to define his love for me by the level of denial he imposed upon himself on my behalf. I ached for him, for the joy and goodness he was withholding from himself and from me too in the process. * * * * * * * * * This predicament was putting stress on Darian and Angela too as I returned home time and time again from my dates with Barry feeling thwarted and unfulfilled. I wasn't sleeping very well, and my dreams were troubled. One night I dreamed of the Temple at Bubastis. My guards tied Barry to the Altar, and I stripped and ravished him. But in my waking hours, I knew such a thing was not within my power, or my rights, anymore. Barry's proposal on our next outing was an offer of marriage, so I wouldn't have to continue my life of promiscuity. By now, he knew I had Angela, and he wanted to give her a stable, decent upbringing. I didn't drag Darian into the picture, since I figured Barry would understand his role on the planet less than he understood mine. Barry was anguished at my refusal of his betrothal, and I just couldn't watch the deterioration of our friendship any further. He was not going to let go of this, and it was bringing me down too much. I had to cut him loose. We both cried at our parting. I loved him so much, and he loved me so much, but there was no reconciling our respective positions. Neither one of us was going to budge, so it was best we say good-bye. I had given it my very best effort, and so had he. I gave him a little wave, and walked back to my Temple in the rain while the tears washed down my face with the raindrops. Darian was there to hug me and kiss me, and offer me dinner which he had been preparing all afternoon; and Angela gave me wet little kisses on my cheek, repeating in worried tones, "Cwy? Cwy?" "Yes," I said. "Mommy cry. Mommy is sad. But Daddy's dinner will taste good, and Mommy will feel better." Darian reassured me. "Offer it up to the Golden Axiom, Sweetheart. He'll have lots of lifetimes to change his mind. Don't sweat it. You did a good job." "Goo schyob. Goo schyob." Angela repeated. "I know." I gave a little smile. "Let's have dinner." After dinner, Darian played me a violin concerto, and soothed me with the supernal strings of his harp. It's Not Easy to Be a Love Goddess Ch. 05 Barry was the first to propose marriage to me, but he wasn't the last. I was getting older, and the men with whom I most often came into contact were at a different stage of life than my previous liaisons. In the past, if men of this age came to me, I was so young that they were not the kind who was looking for marriage. If they had been, they wouldn't have dated me. Now, I was suddenly meeting men who wanted to "settle down," find a life partner, give Angela a daddy. I wasn't quite sure how to handle all this. So this is the stage at which I had to begin to define myself as a prostitute in order to accomplish my task. I had to begin letting newcomers know immediately that I was available for only one ceremony. And while I never used the word "prostitute," the association was pretty immediate in their minds, along with "loose woman," "slut," "call girl," and "white trash" for some. Those who considered themselves respectable didn't respect me; and those who did not see themselves as respectable often were not safe enough for me to be with. Barry was also not the first religious celibate to try to save my soul. But after him, I got better at spotting the incorrigibles, and didn't spend my time on them, already knowing the outcome. There were too many other willing adherents to find, even though many of them were looking for their One and Only. Sometimes I was able to convince them that a night with me would only enhance their life with their future One and Only. But many of them were so bound up in fear, they were sure they would contract some horrible disease from me. My body was sanctified to its holy purpose, and the golden energy cords which Darian sent through it regularly cleansed out all impurities. I don't suppose they could realize that. So I humored them by getting tested in their barbaric medical facilities for sexually transmitted diseases, so I could show them a paper which testified in their eyes to my clean health. Let me tell you, it took an extra dose of Darian's vitalizing strands to purify the toxins I received from the primitive needles which were inserted in me to draw my blood for the tests. There were also then many men that came to me who were already married. Of course, most of them did not volunteer this information; but the light-colored indentation at the base of their ring finger was pretty easy to spot. I was glad for this, because I felt I could help them a great deal. They had fewer problems with the limitation of my service, and they had a woman in their lives already with whom to share the lessons I gave once they left me. My ministrations to them were often just what they needed to take home to their wives. After all, my goal was to teach the highest nature of Love, and their wives needed this as much as they did. I remember one in particular. His name was Bobby. I met him in a hardware store where I was buying lamp oil for the soft lamps I liked to light in my Temple along with the candles. I always made it a point to frequent stores and shops that catered to the interests of men. Not only did I meet lots of them that way; but I was often the only woman in the joint, which could only work to my advantage. My exquisitely sculpted form was always on display in well chosen, tasteful, and subtly seductive apparel, the better to draw the bees to the nectar, my dear. Few men failed to notice. In fact, the only ones who didn't were deep in discussion about overhead cams or the latest football upset, and just hadn't looked up yet. I derived a great deal of pleasure from this adoration. It didn't make up for the lack of respect my profession generated in this world, but if I couldn't have respect, I suppose appreciation was the next best thing. After all, it is the mechanism by which all creatures are drawn to higher things. Some think they must grasp with a stranglehold that which they desire, but that does not render the desire itself wrong. Anyway, Bobby had a sincere, distinct, and pointed appreciation for the work of art in front of him, as his eyes targeted me from the far end of the aisle. He made his way up it while I perused the shelf, and considered buying another cut glass lamp that was particularly pretty for my collection. "You like lamps?" was his first pick-up line. It was not overly smooth, but not overtly crude either. "I'd like to light your fire." Oops, spoken too soon. I looked at him then in full gaze. "No, I would like to Light yours," I replied. He took it as a game, so I joined in. "No, I wanna light yours." "No, I want to Light yours." He laughed and I smiled, and I knew it wouldn't take three dates to get him to my Temple. So I invited him over for the evening and gave him my address. When he arrived, Angela was sleeping peacefully in the back bedroom, and Darian was hovering about the ceiling. Sometimes he liked to create special effects for my visitors at the moment of climax, when their minds and hearts were unsheathed, and the veil between worlds thin. Some of them actually saw him watching over us because of the higher vibrations in which their bodies were moving at that moment, and later confessed to a confidante that they had once seen an angel. A few even saw him through closed eyelids. But they could always dismiss it as a moment of insanity, and laugh it off as a figment of their imagination. They figured the strum of a harp chord or the long note of a saxophone had to have happened only in their mind, when they recalled it later. So Bobby came in, and whistled at the luxurious furnishings. Looking around, he commented, "I sure didn't expect a fancy place like this. You'd never know it from the outside o' the house." He whistled again. Then he looked at me, and grinned, and gave an even more appreciative whistle. "I shoulda known a high-class lady like you would have a high-class pad to match," he said, moving toward me. I offered him a drink, and he said a beer sounded good. I never imbibed alcohol myself, except for the fermented extract which imposed sterility on my womb; but I did greatly enjoy the savor of it on the mouth and tongue of the men who drank it in my presence. It had an inflammatory effect on me when I kissed them. In that form, it was delicious. He sat on one of the couches with his beer, and I joined him, availing myself of the opportunity to enjoy his beer my way. "You don't pull any punches, do you," he commented, coming up for air. I kissed him again, moving my hand over his thigh and right onto the growing mound under his jeans. I massaged it firmly, with just the slightest hint of restraint; then began to undo his jeans and pull them off. He stopped me. "Could you . . . dance a little?" he asked. "Why yes," I lilted, and stood up. I put some music on the stereo, and began to undulate slowly, like a snake rising out of a basket. I kept my eyes on him; and watched as my writhing motions created correlating little movements in his muscles, and in the member which he stroked, watching me, until it outgrew his underwear and peeked out. His face was a comical reflection of the changing emotions moving through him as he took in the show. I undressed while I danced, using shed clothing to caress my body where I knew his hands longed to touch. Then I danced over to him, removed his underwear, and began to rub up against him with my bare legs, arms, and torso. His pillar was ripe to bursting, and I took it into my mouth with relish, savoring its spongy tang and hard softness. He grasped my shoulders, and I could feel the tightness of his body as I increased the rhythm of my movements, until the milk of his joy spilled down my throat and he became still once more. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "Wow! You are something' else!" He picked up his beer from the end table where he had set it, and finished it off. "Well, thanks a lot," he said, picking up his discarded clothing. I took it from him. "Oh no," I smiled seductively. "You're not going yet. It's my turn." It's Not Easy to Be a Love Goddess Ch. 06 "You see, I'm a love goddess, and I have a very special Gift for you; and I haven't even given it to you yet." "Oh, okay," he said, with the air of a sheep willing to be led wherever I chose to take him. I took his hand then and led him into the bedroom. Darian followed. I lay down on the bed and instructed him to sit beside me. "Now," I explained. "I want to play a game with you. You like games, don't you." He nodded. "So, the game we're going to play is kinda like capture the flag. Only, instead of a flag, I'm the prize. Got it?" "I think so," he answered. "So here are the rules. Your team (meaning all the parts of your body, and I mean all the parts) can touch any of the members of my team, as long as I don't tag you. If I tag you, that means you can't touch me there, so you have to find a new place to touch, or kiss, or whatever. You can go back to a spot where you got tagged and you may or may not get tagged there again. It's that simple. Ready to play?" "Sure!" He reached out to squeeze my breast. I tagged him. He pulled his hand away. "What? You don't want to be touched there?" he said incredulously. "No," I replied. "Try again." So he slid his hand down my pelvis to my groin. I tagged him. "What? Wrong again? I don't know if I like this game!" "You will," I encouraged. "Just keep trying." So he touched my thigh. I tagged him. He touched my calf. I tagged him. He touched my foot. I didn't tag him. He fondled my foot a little, not quite sure what to do with it. But I gave him assurances in the form of sighs and little noises of pleasure. I suggested he try another member of his team on my feet. So he rubbed his arm on them. Then he began to kiss them all over, and draw the toes into his mouth to suck on them. I squealed with delight, at the sound of which he left my toes and spread my legs, touching his tongue to the folds of skin at their juncture. I tagged him. So he went back to my feet. I tagged him. He moved to my calves, and I didn't tag him. His pillar had again grown full and upright. He began to rub it along my legs, doing contortions with his buttocks to guide it where he wanted it. "M-m-m," I said. "I like that." He was doing very well for a beginner at this game. Then he placed his hand on my breast. I tagged him. He took my hand. I tagged him. He leaned over and kissed my mouth. I didn't tag him. His tongue played inside my lips and teeth, and filled my mouth with its warmth. I sucked on it and kissed back, but I continued to let him lead. Then he straddled me above my shoulders and began to move his wand over my face, my cheeks, my hair, my closed lips. I closed my eyes and felt the soft swipes over the sensitive skin of my nose, my eyelids, my forehead. He was being very creative, and had caught the spirit of this game. It was one I played often to teach my patrons. Sometimes I had to give quite a bit of coaching. But Bobby was doing beautifully. He moved his body down mine and pressed full-length upon me. He put his arms around me and hugged. He kissed my neck, and then made a pathway down my arm with kisses, and sucked on each of my fingers. Then he did the same with the other arm. My moans and squeaks cheered him on. He straddled my thighs, sitting on them and rubbing his hands up and down my sides and belly, moving inward, getting closer to my breasts, then switching to another angle and moving in again. "Yes!" I urged. He leaned over and brushed his hair along my arms and over my belly. He licked my ribs, traced the edge of one round globe, and then the other. Then, he began to scale each mountain by a path that circled around and around until he had reached the summit. He lowered his lips to my nipple, and I tagged him. So he went to my feet again, and began a slow climb up my legs. He kissed my calves and kneecaps, holding my thighs with his hands, and found the tender little hollow on the insides of my legs under the knee, where he played with his tongue. Then he made tongue patterns up the insides of my legs, and I spread my legs wide like a butterfly, and welcomed the worker bee to his well-deserved nectar. As he delved and licked with his tongue, I took his fingers and pinched them around my nipples, working them in a gentle twirling pattern. By this point, all the energy and blood flow of my body was swirling toward and out of my molten center, and every move of his tongue and lips registered ecstatic pulses through me. He continued to suck until the pulses reached their peak, washing away from the center and down to every nerve ending he had touched on his long, amorous journey. Then I took charge again, and pulled him up to meet face to face. "Now I can give you my Gift," I said. "Now you have made your sacred pilgrimage, and are worthy of heaven's reward." I took his pillar and brought it to the entrance of the Sacred Hallway of Enlightenment, Power, and Life. "Enter, worthy one." He thrust inside then, and I leaned back, threw my arms at right angles to my sides, summoned the tiny flame which was like a drop of fire from the All-Consuming Oneness, and drew it into him. He groaned loudly, thrusting fiercely and giving himself over wholly to the powerful forces at work. The golden energy conduits sprang up around us, exploding into pure white light as they shifted into the cosmic dimension. Darian leaned over and kissed the back of Bobby's head as the energy ebbed. Bobby looked up at him. "Good job," Darian smiled at him. Then he vanished. Bobby wasn't nearly so anxious to leave this time. In fact, he took the opportunity to avail himself of one more sacrament—that of confession. "I don't know why I should tell you this," he said slowly. "But I'm married. And I really love her, y'know? I guess I didn't realize how much until tonight. "It'd kill 'er to know I did this. But I jus' . . . got tired, y'know? She's always buggin' me about what she wants me to do around the house, and why can't I help with the kids more, and why didn't I take out the trash, and . . . I guess I could do a little more for her. "But, it's jus' . . . well, she don't wanna have sex with me near as often as I want it. And I jus' decided, what the hell, I'm jus' gonna go git me some, and . . . I s'pose she might have more energy for sex if I helped out a little more . . . "I wonder if she'd like that game we played . . ." I smiled at him. The Immutable Jewel was already doing its work. "It's worth a try," I replied. Bobby took his time leaving, and kissed me good-bye at the door, with a "Thank you." Darian came out of the bedroom then and put his arm around my waist. "You're wonderful," he commented, squeezing my middle. "So are you," I returned. Then he led me into the bedroom, and we slept the sleep of the dead until Angela's cries pierced the silence. It's Not Easy to Be a Love Goddess Ch. 07 Angela. My precious. My adorable little dolly. My cheerful imp. We had so much fun with her. She showed me the world in a new way every day, through her eyes. As she grew, I began to speak to her about the Mysteries. I began to instruct her about Love. I was able to help her along in ways I had not been helped. I understood this world we were in much better than I had when I first arrived. I now knew that in this place, a goddess was a rarity, and had to be discreet. Angela would not celebrate the Ceremony of Blossoming with a public feast, as I had done in so many other lifetimes. The effusion of her first red tide would not be the cause of dancing and singing among the people of our city. She would not have the friendship of the other goddesses who were ripening, nor the chance to giggle with them over which handsome prince would be her tutor once it was time to take the catechism into the laboratory. Like the Opening Ceremony, the only guests at her Blossoming Feast were Darian and I. And the week of dancing was shortened to an evening for us. I was worried about what to do. Angela hadn't spent near as many lifetimes as I had in the Service, and I didn't know who we could find to tutor her. After all, there was only so much I could teach her. I was so thoroughly experienced when I came into this lifetime; I had known what to do from the beginning. In fact, when I was born, I hadn't really known I was a baby! My childhood had been spent sorting all this out. But Angela was different, and she had had a different childhood than I. She didn't have to figure everything out for herself, as I had; and, indeed, was not as capable of that as I. She needed instruction, and I didn't know where to turn for it. I expressed my concern over this to her one afternoon. "Mom . . ." she said hesitantly. "Mom?" "Yes, sweetheart. What is it?" I encouraged. She paused and bit her lip, trying to get the words out. I sat silently, waiting. "Mom . . ." Then it came out in a rush. "I don't know if I want a tutor!" "What?" I said, stunned. "Mom, it's just that . . .Well, I don't think I want a tutor. I don't think I even want to be a goddess. "I don't like being different from my friends. They all think I don't have a dad, because I can't tell them mine's an angel that's invisible to people. And, not all of them have dads, so it's not like I'm a total freak, or anything, but I'm just tired of having to hide my home life and pretend to be like them, and make up a job for you 'cuz they wouldn't understand what you do, and . . . "Maybe I don't want to be a goddess when I grow up. Maybe I want to be a mountain climber, or a veterinarian, or a . . . dentist! Maybe I'd like to decide that for myself and not have you and Daddy just assuming what I'm going to be!" I swallowed hard. Whoa! My daughter had a mind of her own, and I was in shock at the thoughts it had spawned. I didn't know what to say. So I said nothing. We sat there looking at each-other, her words suspended in the silence between us. Angela was as stunned by what she had just said as I was. "I don't know what to say," I finally murmured. I just looked at her. "I don't know what to say." Angela gazed at me with pleading eyes. In a small voice, she said, "Say you love me, Mom?" I opened my arms to her, and she slid into them. I wrapped them around her, and hugged her tight. "I love you, Angela, more than anything in the world," I said, squeezing the tears behind my eyelids. After a long embrace, I released her. "Well," I concluded with a sigh. "I guess we're just going to have to give this some thought. We'll talk more later, I guess." "Okay, Mom. I'm gonna go do my homework," she replied, and left the kitchen. Darian came in then, from his afternoon flight around the park. "Hello!" he exclaimed cheerily, and kissed my cheek. Then he stopped, peering at my face. "What's with the furrowed brow?" he asked kindly. I looked straight ahead. "Angela just told me she doesn't want to be a goddess." "What?" he said incredulously. I looked at him and nodded. "That's what she said," I affirmed. "Wow!" Darian sank into the chair next to mine. "Yeah," I said. "Wow." We sat there in silence, just as Angela and I had done. After a while, Darian offered, "Y'know, she is one whether she wants to be or not." "I know," I replied. "But we certainly can't force her," Darian said. "Yeah. I learned that one from Barry." "Yeah." It's Not Easy to Be a Love Goddess Ch. 08 Angela wanted to have a "normal" family, so I did my best. We decided I was a "Life Purpose Consultant" who kept appointments with my clients in the evenings so as not to conflict with their regular working schedules. We decided Angela's father was tired of his roaming days, and he came home one day to reconcile with his family and stay. Darian was certainly willing to make the sacrifice of manifesting himself visibly now, minus the wings, of course. It had been necessary to do so more and more as Angela had grown, anyway. And we decided to move the furnishings of the Temple to a new location, so Angela could have her friends over without embarrassment. Angela was very happy, enjoying her schoolwork and her new social life. I didn't want to push her, but I occasionally offered a little nudge. "Please feel free to invite boys here," I told her. "Your father and I would be happy to have an excuse to get out of the house for a while," I hinted. Obviously, I had given up on the idea of a tutor. But, remembering my own adolescence, I figured that if she could have the opportunity to be with some boys, they would stir up the gifts residing in her, and she would be able to develop them. However, she didn't take to my suggestions. "Mo-om," she whined. "I know what you're trying to do. Forget it. I'm not that comfortable with boys. I wouldn't know what to do with one if we were alone." "But you'd figure it out," I urged. "I know you would." "Don't nag me, Mom. Hey, maybe I'm a lesbian or something." I coughed, choking on a bite of the apple I was eating. "Just kidding, Mom!" she laughed, and left the room. "Well," I thought wryly. "I suppose one could be a goddess to females." It wasn't like I didn't accept that expression of sexuality. It just wasn't my preference. Somehow, I didn't really think it was Angela's either. But this daughter of mine sure was stretching my belief system. What next? * * * * * * * * * Well, Angela remained true to her convictions, and didn't even date during high school. Nothing I said would convince her to open up to her gift. She just kept insisting that she was not ready yet. There were times when I felt very sad about this. Like Barry, it seemed to me that she was shutting so much goodness and joy out of her life. She was literally refusing the grace of the Golden Axiom, and the vital energies of the Cosmos. I worried about her. I didn't know if her body would be able to stay healthy without the active golden cords running through it. She did not like the effect she experienced when Darian or I tried to send them down her body through her head, so we had to stop offering them. "Oh Darian," I lamented in his arms one night. "How can she refuse all this? The ecstasy, the joy of being naked in your embrace, the fountain of bliss that rises up within me at every communion!" "I know," said Darian sympathetically. "I know. Just give her time. Give her time." * * * * * * * * * Angela decided to go away to college when she graduated. She really did want to be a veterinarian! The parade of dogs and cats, guinea pigs, rats, mice, hamsters, and birds through our home in her high school days had been notable; and now she wanted to formalize her service to them. At the end of her first year of undergraduate work, she came home for the summer. Of course, her old bedroom was waiting for her. I heard her in there humming one day. I went to her doorway, and there she was, looking in her mirror and humming to herself. There was a flush of radiance in the face looking back at her. And I suddenly knew. I waltzed into the room, took her hands, and twirled around and around with her, grinning and crowing. "You . . ." I began. "Yes," she grinned sheepishly. "I . . ." I sat her down on the bed. "So?" I prompted. "So . . . there's this really smart junior who offered to help me with my lit homework, and we spent a lot of time at the library together, and he's really smart, and I . . . like him." "Yes . . . and?" "And, that's all there is to tell. Except that his name is Sam and I . . .think we might get married some day. Not right away, of course. Maybe after we graduate." "Married?" I squeaked, trying not to belittle the word. "So . . . you two, of course, have consummated . . ." "No," she broke in, looking away. Then she forced her eyes back to mine. "No, we're waiting." Shades of Barry again. What was this world coming to?? "Oh," I said, trying to hide my disappointment, with little success. "Mom, I wish you could be happy for me," she whined. "Most parents would be ecstatic to have a daughter like me! Most parents would thank their lucky stars their daughter wasn't out banging boys every chance she got! Most parents would like having a daughter who studies books all night!" I became very quiet. That hurt. "I'm sorry, Mom." She was suddenly contrite. "I didn't mean to sound so bitter. I didn't mean to knock your profession. I really didn't. I know it makes you happy. It's just that...well, I'm not you, and I never will be. I'm not telling you not to do what you do. I'm just . . . asking you to appreciate what I want to do . . ." "I know," I swallowed. "I'm trying to understand. I really am. It's just all so . . . foreign to me." She hugged me then, and I remembered the afternoon Barry and I had said good-bye. The tears flowed, as I realized that, this time, I couldn't just walk away from this person. This time, I had to find a way to live with this sorrow every single day. * * * * * * * * * Angela did indeed earn her bachelor degree. She had applied to veterinary school, and would begin attending after the wedding. "Well, Mom," she tried to explain it to me. "A wedding is kind of like a Blossoming Feast; and the goddess is the bride, and the prince is the groom. And they stand in front of the priest . . ." "The priest?" I queried. "Yes. It's like a male priestess, sort of. Except he doesn't have sex with people . . ." "Then how does he administer the sacraments?" "Well, he does it another way. I can't exactly explain it all. But he says a lot of words, and things they call prayers, and pronounces us husband and wife." "Okay." "And all you have to do is sit there. Then we have a meal and a party with dancing . . ." "And then we all accompany you to the Altar of Consummation and strip off your scarves and garments, leaving you naked to enter into the hallowed rites?" I enthused. "No, Mom. That's where the similarity to the Blossoming Feast ends. Then you all throw rice at us, and we leave in a limousine to the hotel where we will spend the night." "Oh." I was trying to be a good sport, but it wasn't easy. "And please wear something modest to the church, Mom. And please don't flirt with the priest!" "All right," I acquiesced. "But only because I love you so much . . ." We had to make a visit to the mall to find me a gown, as nothing in my closet was acceptable to Angela. * * * * * * * * * The wedding went off without a hitch, and the new bride didn't have to know I had made a date with Sam's second cousin for a "consultation." Now, at least I could breathe a sigh of relief, for Angela was finally giving herself permission to receive the sacrament she had put off for so long. She didn't say much to me afterward. I suppose she felt rather overshadowed by my experience, and was characteristically secretive and shy about her first encounter with my realm of expertise. But she indicated it had been rewarding for her. Once again, I had to accept that I could not share with my daughter some of the mysteries I most cherished. Darian, of course, was a perfect angel at the wedding, and throughout this ordeal. And, I daresay, not a woman sitting in that church failed to appreciate the charm and grace exuded by the father of the bride. I was not the only member of our family who had the effect of honey on the bees of this planet. It's Not Easy to Be a Love Goddess Ch. 09 Angela got her veterinary degree and went into practice, and I made sure to refer every pet owner I came across to her. My devotees were only too happy to take their dogs and cats to her office. And after two years of successful practice, we were overjoyed to learn that Angela and Sam were to be parents. I liked Sam. He reminded me a little of Barry—so smart and well read. I think he felt a little intimidated around me, but I always encouraged him to share his store of knowledge when he and Angela visited, because it was truly stimulating—intellectually, I mean. Angela was glowing with that beauty unique to women in the process of ripening the fruit of their womb. I was so happy for her, thinking back to the delight I had felt when she had been the guest in my womb. Few joys in life equaled this; and few experiences brought more surprises! I was sure this would be an educational adventure for Angela and Sam. I didn't realize what a singular blessing it would be to me. But Reina Dawn came into the world on November 20th, and stole my heart in a way I would not have thought possible after having Angela. I'm afraid Angela found it somewhat of a trial mothering Reina; but I was ecstatic when Angela told me how the little boys at Reina's daycare just wanted to give her kisses all day long. Now, here was a child I could relate to! Reina became Grandma's favorite visitor. We painted our nails together, played dress-up, tried on jewelry and did make-up. We took bubble baths, lit scented candles, told each-other fairy tales, and collected pin-ups of all the modern day princes of the silver screen. At last, a willing protégé. When Reina was four, her brother, Patrick Paul came along, and we called him Paul. Paul had the most delicate features and exquisite, long golden curls. I cried the first time they were shorn. And it did not surprise me when Angela told me all the little boys at daycare wanted to kiss him all the time. He was awfully sweet and loving. When he got a little older, Paul's distinction became even more apparent, as we discovered his inclination to join Reina and me in our tea parties, make-up sessions, and gab fests. He definitely had his favorites among the collection of male pin-ups. Poor Angela. She got it into her head that I was to blame for her children's behavior. This was not easy for her to take, and we had some tense moments at times. I tried to remind her of her own words, that her children needed the freedom to be themselves, to be different from their mother; but she liked hearing that about as much as I had. She even went so far as to ban the kids from grandma's house for a while; but when they protested loudly and persistently enough, she let them start coming over again. Angela reluctantly agreed to have the Blossoming Ceremony for Reina; with the stipulation, of course, that we leave out the part at the end. She told herself it was just a meal to acknowledge that Reina was growing into a young lady. According to her, Reina was not going to have a tutor anymore than she had had one. That was just as well, since I still didn't know of any men who would be worthy of the position. Dare I confess, however, that I became the accomplice to Reina's novitiate? Well, I didn't think she should have to do the kind of itinerant preaching I had done in my early days. After all, there was my Temple, free for the asking, and it was time for Reina to move into her calling. Far be it from me to thwart the will of the Golden Axiom! I think Angela suspected what was going on, but she just chose to ignore it and hope it would go away. She didn't want to deal with it, didn't really know how to prevent it, so she just pretended it wasn't happening. Reina and I took this tacit permission and ran with it. Again, I felt so honored to share the wisdom I had gained over so many lifetimes with this ravishing, buoyant, enthusiastic nymph. She worked diligently and patiently to achieve skill. She was careful to take the wine and wafer I provided her regularly, and allowed Darian to minister the golden cleansing energies through her head. She was a joy to apprentice. Once again, Paul tracked right along with her, passing similar milestones four years to the rear. I knew he would be ready for something like a Blossoming Ceremony of his own when he reached puberty, and I puzzled over how to meet his needs. I was sitting in the kitchen one day, pondering this question with a frown, when it suddenly hit me! Maybe Darian could mentor him! Darian was used to working mostly behind the scenes, and his forte was in ministering to me, a woman; but he had certainly observed me a lot with men. Perhaps he could help Paul with what I now knew was his own calling, as sure as Reina had hers. After all, the gay community needed the gifts of Love and Cosmic Oneness just as much as anyone. My grandson would be the missionary to a whole segment of the population I couldn't reach! Here was another great honor bestowed upon me by the Golden Axiom. * * * * * * * * * Paul came to me one day, and wanted to have a talk. I could see by his serious bearing that important ideas were stirring within him. "Grandma . . ." he said, and then paused. "I'm not like other kids." He looked up at me with tears shining in his eyes. "I'm not like other boys," he said, as the tears spilled over his cheeks. I looked at him lovingly. "I know," I said. "Why not, Grandma?" There was an ache in his voice. I chose my words slowly and carefully. "Because you're special, Paul. You have come into this world with a special Gift which is yours to share with other boys and men." "They don't want my Gift, Grandma. They don't want it at all . . . "They spit on my Gift, Grandma. They want me to fight and wrestle with them. They'd rather I punch 'em in the eye than be nice to them, Grandma. They don't want me." The sobs erupted then. I took him to me, and he heaved his misery on my shoulder. I felt so sad for him. So sorry. I thought I had a tough job in this world. I didn't envy Paul the strength and forbearance it would take him to fulfill his mission. All I could do was try to add my own strength to his. But my heart was breaking along with his. Finally, once he had gotten himself under control, he looked me square in the eye. "I don't wanna be special, Grandma. I'm not gonna be." I met his gaze with equanimity. "No one can force you to do anything you don't want to do, Paul. But you will never be truly content until you obey the call of the Golden Axiom." He hugged me then. "I love you, Grandma. I'm gonna go now." * * * * * * * * * I had not felt this dejected since that day, so long ago, when Angela had refused her Gift. Why did this have to be so hard? Once again, Darian seemed to have more faith in the situation than I did. He repeated his mantra, "Give him time. Give him time." That was easier for Darian to say than me. He wasn't as emotionally involved as I was. His heart wasn't breaking like mine. I cried and cried. And then I dried my tears, and watched Paul put on his armor, and march out into the world, a stoic little soldier. He threw himself into his new role with gusto, and ended up with what was, in my opinion, more bloody noses and cuts and bruises than his share. His tough exterior didn't fool me any, but the other kids at school seemed to be buying it.