Oshun-Mother of Life/Mother of Sadness (The Gods in Therapy)

Emily found herself standing close to a river with the sky somewhere between the darkest time of night and the first light of dawn. She could not yet see the river but she could hear it and Oya stood before her in all of Queenly glory. “Well, hello again, child. I had to do a bit of begging but Oshun has agreed to speak with you. I have brought you some things to give to her as an offering. She is not like me. As she has aged with grief in her heart, she has required a bit more groveling than she used to need so please keep that in mind. We are near the river named for her that runs into the river named for me. It is the only place where she will meet me now. The people thought it a funny thing to do, to name these rivers that seemed to merge for the two of us, first and last wives of Sango, both of us mothers to my beloved Ibeji, my Kehinde and Taewo, we who share things no other Orisha share. They were right to do it. Every year, it seems, more people here are returning to us, their real Gods, and every year they come, sometimes a thousand or more, to pay their respects and ask for favors from their Oshun. But part of how the other religions were able to spread as they did without her retribution was because of the grief in her heart. She still dresses in yellow and she still shows how sensual she is. Sometimes she even does her part to make a woman fertile when she asks. But she is not the same happy, joyful, carefree Oshun she was before the day that she set our Ibeji by this river and left them there for me to find.”

         “Why did she do it?” Emily asked in a whisper. Instinctively she knew that if Oshun caught them talking in such a way about Her, She would never agree to speak with Emily directly again and She might even show Her wrath. Standing by Her river, Emily was quite sure that Oshun’s wrath would be deadly for her.

        “No one had ever seen twins from a human, let alone an Orisha. Only animals had twins. So when the Orisha heard that Oshun gave birth to two babies at one time, they accused her of lying with animals and all sorts of foul horrible things. She loved her babies, oh she loved them, and she loves them still. But she was made weaker in her heart, having just had babies, as women are, and their words cut her deeper than they would have ordinarily. Where normally she would have told them to go to hell, as people say, in that state, her heart already hurting from having babies by a wild man like Sango, her mind still not recovered from having the babies, she could not stand the ridicule. But she knew if she set them by our rivers, I would hear their cries and come for them. She knew about my lost babies and my useless womb. Though she has never admitted it to me, she set them there for me to take in.”

         Handing Emily the offerings of honey covered oranges and bright yellow sunflowers, she motioned for Emily to follow her. “Oshun, we have come to speak to you. I have brought the young human I told you about and she has brought you gifts.”

        As they reached the river’s edge, the rushing water seemed to collect in the middle into a funnel cloud like one sees during a tornado. Gradually, in the middle of the water, Emily was able to make out bright yellow and as the water subsided, the beauty of the Goddess of life and sensuality, of joy and happiness, but also of the sorrow of injustice, came into view. My Goddess, She is beautiful, Emily thought. She seemed to hear this thought and She smiled. Walking on the water, this Mother of the Yoruba people, the Goddess who brought them into the world, shook Her head, Her long thick dreadlocks briefly covering Her face. “I see no reason for this, Oya. If I have not been pacificed after all this time, you cannot truly think a little girl who is no different from those who beg for my help could possibly say something new. I do thank you for the gifts, though. Oya may have given them to you but I do see that you are giving them with reverence in your heart.”

        Emily bowed to the Goddess as she extended her hands and the Goddess took the gifts, devouring the oranges at once and giving the flowers to the river. Oya replied to Oshun’s comment only after Oshun took the offering, saying softly, “Sometimes, dear sister, it is not about what someone else says...it is about how well they listen to your pain. And she has a gift for listening to the pain of others.”

        Oshun laughed but it was a laugh filled with a great deal of pain and bitterness and lacking in any warmth or joy. “I am not your sister! And it is easy for you to tell me how to ease my pain when you have all that was once mine. You also have the luxury of dealing with the souls of the dead instead of the cruelty of the living. Since this earth was ripped apart, all of us, the Mother Goddesses, have watched our children, the same children we raised as one family, tear one another apart. Every day they invent new reasons for hate and violence. They never learn from the mistakes of the past anymore. It seems they traded their very souls for gold. They destroy the earth they must survive on to get money to buy the things they need to survive that the earth herself offers at no cost...just as we designed the earth to do. How can I help such blind stupidity? Humans used to bring me joy in my heart. Do you remember that? How we would laugh at their happiness and dance to the songs they created. When they created our images in caves and later from clay and stone, we felt pride that they learned the art. There is little art left on this earth. There is only pain and the disregard for one another. You have the children that might have continued to bring me joy when the humans disappointed me.”
       Sighing, Oya looked so sad. Her heart was heavy with the truth of her sister’s words and Emily felt as if it would be the love of Oya alone that would ease the grief of Oshun. “You know you may come and see our Ibeji whenever it pleases you. I would never keep you from their lives.”

        Again, the sound of that mirthless bitter laugh went through Emily to the core of her soul. There was just as much power in Oshun’s sorrow as there was in Oya’s near-constant joy. “Oh? And what shall I tell them? Who do they think I am?”

        “The Orisha that carried them in her womb and birthed them into this world, of course! They know who you are, Oshun! I spent many many years living in a constant fear of you returning to claim them as yours. I never would’ve stopped you, even if it tore my heart out. I wasn’t sure I would go on if you did that...but I would’ve never stopped you. At first I told them the truth because I wanted them to know in case such a thing happened. I told them the truth. That you birthed them and you loved them with all of your heart but the people were cruel so you did what you felt was best for all of you. I explained to them that because we lived in different places and we were different Orisha, I was able to keep them safe and happy and because you are a wonderful birth mother,even though your heart ached for them, that made it worth it for you. Do you recall the times I made the trip here so I could ask you if I could bring them? I wanted them to know you and for you to know them. There has never been a reason for you to stay out of their lives.”

         “Oh? And what about Sango? What would he feel about that?” Oshun questioned in an accusatory tone.

         Oya laughed a deep belly laugh and for a moment, Emily thought Oshun might smile. “What of Sango? You, too, were married to him. Do you think we live, all of us, in one big happy home, that he has been a wonderful father to his children, that he comes home in the evening and puts them to sleep with a story?” Again Oya laughed and it was obvious she couldn’t help herself. “I am their mother...you are their mother...Sango carves them toys from my fire from time to time before I have to remind him such toys will burn their little hands. Sango is no one’s father, sister.” At this, both Goddesses laughed. When the amusement died down, Oya declared in a somber tone, “I am your sister, Oshun. Our fates have been intertwined just as the fate of our Ibeji are intertwined. We shared a husband. We share our children. And I love you, beautiful Oshun. Can you truly not see that? Of course I remember how we used to laugh all of that time ago when the humans knew who they were and they loved each other. I miss you so sometimes my heart aches for you! And your heart aches for our children. I know you love your river and I am not asking you to abandon our people here. Even I’ve come home to visit. No, I am only asking that you come and visit. Wait until you see the home I have now. You will put on your brightest yellow dress with your yellow eye shadow and your dark red lipstick and you will shake your ass with me in Congo Square as you have not moved your ass in a millennia.”

       Emily felt as if she were all but forgotten in the conversation but that was fine. She knew healing when she saw it and she knew that, for whatever reason, Oshun finally heard what Oya was trying to tell her all along. The small part of Oshun that still felt as if this were some sort of trap made her narrow her eyes and put her hands on her hips, asking, “Is Sango there?”

        “Not presently. And if he decides to come in while you are visiting? We’ll send him out hunting.” They both laughed quite hard at that so Emily figured it was an inside joke. Touching Oshun’s shoulder for the first time, Oya pleaded with her, “Please come, sister. See the home I have and see what beautiful gifts our Ibeji are. We were not meant to be enemies. Life and death should never be enemies. We are meant to work together to keep things going for this universe, remember? Let us act like sisters once more. Please.”

        Emily found herself again in her living room, again carrying dirt on her feet from the river bank as a physical manifestation of what should’ve been an otherworldly experience. Seeing those two Goddesses embrace one another the way They were in her last moments there made her feel a hope and joy in her heart that was rare for her, even in her most optimistic moments. While she had only a two hour window in which to sleep, she was proud that she witnessed such a reconciliation even if she did nothing, really, to facilitate it. Sometimes all that was needed to bring two people together who really wanted to fix their problems was to stand as a silent witness and she was happy to do that. Although she wasn’t sure what, if any, benefits it would bring to humans, she knew it would bring joy to a gorgeous Goddess of happiness that needed a lift in her spirit. And if they were all on the brink of destruction, at least she would go out knowing she was there for such a moment.

Moral of the Story?: There’s no I in Team