Finding The Goddess in Greece By Karen Tate I was a woman obsessed or maybe possessed! Driven all year to make a pilgrimage to the Goddess a reality, we gathered eight women and men ready to embark on our journey to visit the Goddess Sites in Greece. We eight strangers, all coming together from different backgrounds, with different intentions and expectations, traveling for 24 days at a furious pace, had experiences of a lifetime. If you spoke to each of us, you'd hear eight different stories. Here is a glimpse into mine. Greece was a land of diversity. Everywhere we looked we were reminded of temples built to honor democracy and patriarchy; but still there, if you looked, were signs of the Goddess in a land where She once ruled supreme. We all had our fill of wonderful Greek wine, mousaka, souvalaki, Greek dancing and we even perfected the Greek shrug. It is a land where they can call off daylight savings time on a whim, and where old men still gather in front of taverns to talk of the fishing and flip their worry beads. In the faces of the old women dressed in black from head to toe, carrying their burdens or leading their burros through the narrow blue and white streets, we saw the face of the Crone. It was in these places we found some of our connections to the Goddess. But I digress. Let me first tell you of The Dream. The Dream Preparing my mindset for the trip, I spent the week before our departure hungrily devouring When God Was a Woman and Chalice and the Blade. I wanted to immerse myself in the days of old when the Goddess ruled our world, and I wanted to know of the history of these places we would soon see. I wanted to learn how the Goddess came to slumber in our world today and know of the lives of the women and men who walked before me who were devoted to honoring Her. It was after this orientation I had The Dream. I am appearing with others in an official, court-like place. Before us is the Man and at his feet are the Horns of Consecration. He speaks and says he is surprised the horns have lasted so long. He explains the humidity has damaged them, but they still remain. We acknowledge his words and mentally decide to put off making a decision about the disposition of my grandmother's house. This at first seems to make little sense to the context of the dream. The dream skips over to my grandmother's house, where we are content with our decision to keep her house and not sell it. There are old women sweeping the sidewalk in front of the house and they, too, are happy with our decision. I believe my grandmother's house symbolized the Old Ways of the Goddess. The Horns of Consecration were not damaged by humidity of course, but patriarchy. Yet the Horns have surprisingly endured. They were made of twisted metal and were weathered, perhaps by time and adversity; but still She still remains with us. Perhaps the Horns at the feet of the Man refer to the dominance of patriarchy in society today; yet he is surprised at Her resilience. The old ladies represented the Crone; and they were happy with our wisdom to keep the Goddess as a part of our lives. The Gift The Pelopenese was our first stop in Greece. It was here I received The Gift. I lay awake in bed our first night in Greece, my body adjusting to jet lag, unable to sleep. I felt drawn to our window to soak in the beauty of the night sky. The clouds, stars, moon, the sweet smell of the honeysuckle and night jasmine in the air all called to me. The wind was whipping at my hair and skin as I sat in the window of my bedroom drinking it all in. I started to think how Greece, a superpower of ancient times, had been reduced to what we had seen that day. My first impression was that of culture shock, and fear that our country may be headed down that same path with our best years behind us. But then as I soaked in the energy of that special night in all its splendor, I realize here the people are lucky. They are not overwhelmed by our Western ideals or saturated by the news media and our insatiable materialism. They have simple lives, living close to nature, able to look in the night sky and feel those sensations that come more easily when we are not on overloaded. They can tap into feeling the beauty and sensations of nature caressing and loving our human form. At that moment I had the first perception of nature as a force loving me. The Goddess was reaching out to me in the form of nature. She loved our being here in Her sacred places of power, close to Her roots, where Her first people revered Her in the beginning and for the longest. I felt a part of the power of nature or the Goddess, because they were really One to me on this night. I suddenly knew what authors meant when they said the wind caressed my skin. I felt loved by the elements that night and very glad to be there and aware to accept the gift She offered me. I hoped I would still feel it when I returned home. Just when I thought it was over and I was about to leave my perch on the windowsill, I looked back again into the night one last time for my final gift. This time it came in the form of clouds. Outside my window to the universe, my doorway to the Goddess, the clouds seemed to briefly appear in the form of an angel with an outstretched hand reaching for a star. I sat in awe, thinking how all the work this year was worthwhile for this tender and revealing moment I shared with the Goddess. After this magnificent presentation of wind, moon, stars, clouds of the Goddess in Her form as nature, I went back to bed, hoping to sleep. With tears in my eyes I thanked the Goddess for Her gifts to me this night. As I looked toward the window, dawn slowly ascended to light the sky. The beauty of the night faded to allow the entrance of the splendor of our next new day. Sleep finally overtook me. The Oracles Dodoni, Delphi and Nekromantia all seemed to teem with life despite it being October. Everywhere there were blossoms of summer flowers; blues, yellows, purples. The tiny flowers sprouted from cracks in the stones that formed the great theaters and temples of old. Clinging to life to bring us beauty, these flowers seemed One with the Goddess, Who has continued to spring forth for each of us. Almost daily we continued to be in awe of the forces of nature around us. Interestingly, we seemed to be followed by a single white butterfly at each sacred site of the Goddess. In Athens we finally caught it on film partaking of the sweet nectar of the flowers at the Parthenon, dedicated to Athena. At Vravona, the training ground of the priestesses of Artemis, and at Delphi, where stands an impressive temple to Athena, bees seemed to come out of nowhere, especially in power spots. As one of our companions gathered water at one of the spouts from the Castilian Spring at Delphi, he was surrounded by a harmless swarm of bees that busily buzzed around him. We could somehow feel he was perfectly safe. It was as if these bees guarded the site and accepted our being there. It came as neither a surprise nor coincidence that the symbol of the bee is on many art forms and jewelry honoring fertility and the Goddess. Necromantia The Nekromantia Oracle is believed to be closest spot on earth to the Underworld. There Hades takes Persephone down below the Earth away from Her loving mother. In the tiny church on the site we found a possibly unknown Black Madonna. The beautiful image of Her in this veiled form filled the sacred space with an air of peace and tranquillity. We stayed there as long as we dared, burning candles and soaking in the harmony of this special discovery all our own. Below the church in the rooms and passageways of the labyrinth, we walked the path of those who came long before us, looking for guidance from Her. Dark and filled with a feeling of unease, we didn't dally down there long. We were reminded of the unsettling remains of the blood from animal sacrifices and of unknown past inhabitants, found among the stones of this site by archaeologists who unearthed and restored it many years ago. Yet here too, once out in the daylight, the feeling of life and springtime again engulfed us, the sweet smells of the wild flowers cast upon the wind. The tinkle of goat bells was in the distance; an ever present sound in these rural areas, off the beaten path. The average tourist was not here for Her, as we were. Our lone white butterfly did not fail to appear here. Also as at the other sacred sites, we each ritually collected a stone for our altars before leaving a tangible connection to Necromantic. Dodoni The Oracle at Dodoni, a Gaia oracle later of Zeus, was especially sweet. In this splendid valley, most vivid in my memory is the beautiful sound of the wind rustling through the leaves and the unusual quality of its tone reminiscent of music, or dim voices from the past. The abundant greenery, the flowering apple and pomegranate trees were a feast for our senses. This place inspired different reactions from each. Some heard Gaia in the music of the wind, others were reminded of Osiris. Still others, more visual in nature, saw the past come to life in their mind's eye for all too brief a moment. We agreed our time here in this special place was too short. It was near closing and we were hungry for the serenity of this place to fill our near empty vessels and charge our batteries. We looked forward to our return to this sweet valley and envied our ancestors this special place. With little effort one could hear the Greek tragedies once performed in this theater. We could see the priestess offering up flowers or fruit at the oracle's temple altar, a site now marked with a lone oak planted by archaeologists. Not totally restored, this place has an air of the past existing in the present. It is so unlike the sites overrun by tourists who seem to have less connection to the past than to today's tourist dollar. Before leaving we paid homage and placed offerings of fruit, flowers and acorns on what most likely was an altar to one of the Ancient Ones in ages past. Delphi The Oracle at Delphi, the best known of the ancient oracles, has its special magic. We visited when the crowds were long gone so we could enjoy the majesty of this setting high in the mountains. We remembered the legends of the first Pythia, called Sybil, and tried to become one with this place so special to our ancestor priestesses and the Goddess Athena. We imagined what it was like to serve in the temple here, or to be the Pythia, the chosen One who handed down the Word of the Goddess to Her people. The sacred Castalian Spring is off limits to tourists, but we had come a long way and would not be denied. We were drawn to this site and defied the signs blocking our entrance, knowing we should see this place for ourselves. We had to cast our gaze on this pool, hidden in a grove of trees and used by the Pythia to bathe and purify herself before she would be filled with the divine presence. Today the pool empty. The water is diverted around the carved rectangular basin, but it's evident how this ancient bathing spot was used. The water flowing down is cold and clear. We knelt at the flow and covered our faces, arms and hair with the sacred waters. As we did so, even in our t-shirts and tennis shoes, we awakened the feeling that we were sharing in an ancient ritual. We reveled in the special energy our gestures created. We were giddy with delight and our eyes swelled with tears of thanks at being able to repeat the acts of our ancestors. Somehow there was a knowing, a remembering perhaps on a cellular level. This place of Athena and the Pythia conjures special meaning even in this lifetime. The Isle of Delos Delos, the sacred isle, is one of the most important archaeological sites in Greece. It is home to many Goddesses, including our Goddess of preference, Isis. As we approached the island by boat, my eyes scanned the landscape searching for Her temple. I remembered it is still much intact and Her statue, though headless, is still in place, making it one of the best preserved temples in Greece. As I gradually made my way to the Temple of Isis, the wind was strong and crisp and cool. From Her sacred house there is a commanding view of the island and the vivid blue ocean. Her temple is adjacent that of Her consort, Sarapis. At first we just absorbed the beauty of the setting. We were grateful to Her followers of early times for choosing this prime location for our Goddess' sacred temple. Sweet music filled the air as our harpist allowed the wind to sing its own song across the strings of her instrument. It's almost as if the Goddess was serenading us through Her voice as the wind. Or was it the wind, paying homage to its Goddess? They both become One and we just enjoy being a part of the moment. We were fortunate to have time here, and we made our offerings to the Goddess. We left Her dried flower petals and stones inscribed with words of devotion. The inscriptions included our names and the date, so those coming long after us will know there were still priestesses of the Goddess, particularly of Isis, in 1996. They will know we traveled far to make this pilgrimage to Her sacred places in honor of Her. As we sat there, reluctant to leave, an unplanned ritual unfolded. Delos, or Isis, seemed to have claimed a favorite amethyst and crystal earring embellished with a moon and stars; a favorite of mine. As I reached up and realized it had already been offered up here to the winds, it seemed only right to leave its mate. I lovingly took the remaining adornment from my ear and left it at the feet of the Goddess, protectively covering it with a large stone. I felt as I'd done this, I'd left a part of myself here with Her for all time. Home Again I look back over our three-week pilgrimage and see we all came home with mementos, both tangible and intangible. Even if some thought we only returned with images of the Goddess, great Greek wine, stunning lapis lazuli and tons of photographs, I trust we came home with much more. Our experiences were rich and varied. We learned much about ourselves and each other; maybe more than we even wanted to know. But if we put our faith in the Goddess, while we might not have come home with what we wanted, or even with what we expected, as a priestess of Isis, as someone who has now felt Her power, I trust we all came home with what we needed. Patricia Monoghan to lead this year's Discover the Goddess in Greece trip. Pat has written: The Book of Goddesses and Heroines, Oh Mother Sun! A New View of the Cosmic Feminine, Working Wisdom, Seasons of the Witch. Brenda Matarrazo, Ph.D, psychic and Egyptologist, founder of Grove of the Green Cobra school of metaphysics will lead our Discover Isis and Osiris in Egypt Tour. She teaches classes and gives lectures on Egyptian magick and philosophies. | 
