Demeter & Persephone Return

I am currently reading this book entitled, Care of the Soul, by Thomas Moore. I have picked this book up at various periods of my life but found it very egotistical and dry. This time, I am plugging through it with the same opinions of the writer, however am finding elements that cause me pause. As is noted for the past year (going on two this December), I've spent a large portion of my time being introspective, learning about self and trying to learn how to care and or patch up my self, so naturally a book about tending to the soul fits in with my paradigm for the present period in my life.

For those constant blog followers, one may remember a posting about the book, Traveling with Pomegranates--a story about Sue Monk Kidd coming of age in her early forties/fifties, and Anne Kidd Taylor, her daughter, struggling with early twenties. A large portion of Sue and Anne's journey centered around the myth of Persephone and Demeter (the daughter who gets unwillingly pulled down to the underworld as a mate to Hades, separated from her mother against her will, and then her mother ignoring duties as a god, searching for her missing daughter). Care of the Soul reflected on this theme as well and I took particular pause over the idea of this story per the interpretation of Mr. Moore. There were three sentences for which I spent reflection time while peddling on my exercise bike at the gym, "We might understand the story of Persephone as the myth of every child, realizing that the child's susceptibility to dark people and places may be a dangerous but sometimes unavoidable way of soul-making." "The Persophone myth informs us that sometimes one discovers soul and the underworld against one's will." "It is in the nature of things to be drawn to the very experiences that will spoil our innocence, transform our lives, and give us necessary complexity and depth." I, of course, first drew the parallel to that of depression, and how that is a dip to the dark places, yet forces a level of soul-making--but went on to reflect on other areas that could exemplify the underworld as well.

I have been thinking about death a lot lately, pausing on my way to Borders, to observe three lanes of highway closed, bright lights of every emergency vehicle and two cars smashed to a point that lives must have been lost. These two cars had people who were doing an everyday thing, driving their car on the highway. Who knew this day, would be their last day?

My grandmother's anniversary of passing is coming up next week. It causes me pause. Her life, while long, had a more predictable end, but still, it was an ending to one I knew and loved. I sit on my lunch breaks clicking my knitting needles together, knitting needles she gave me, and thinking about her in my history. How I do miss my grandmother.

A customer came in who in conversation I learned had just lost her boyfriend to death. Circumstances unknown to me but the girl was not much older than myself. Did she know she was losing him? Did she know her time was limited?

The interesting reflection here is though these three snippets reflect tangible death, those left behind, also experience a trip to the underworld as well in the journey that is grieving. Demeter and Persephone. Persephone's journey, while challenging for self, also hugely affected her mother, who was having her own journey; much like Sue and Anne in the story.