Profile for April, 2015: MATSU, Goddess of the Seas

“The Grace of Mer” by Autumn Skye Morrison

 

An old legend describes a terrible storm that trapped a ship in the middle of the South China Sea. The passengers were terrified, and even the captain and crew knew they could not save the ship from sinking. Suddenly, a beautiful young woman dressed all in red stood upon the deck. At her command, the sea calmed and the storm faded away. The ship limped into port, the latest vessel to be rescued by the goddess Matsu.

Matsu was a real person, a female shaman who was born on an island off the coast of China in 960 AD. Her parents called her Lin Mo (Silent Child), and soon realized she was very special. Lin Mo began to study Buddhism at age 10; developed a perfect memory; mastered the vast compendium of Chinese healing arts; and taught the people how to prevent illness and injury. She could predict changes in the weather, and knew when it was safe for sailors and fishermen to go to sea. And when storms raged, she fearlessly stood on the shore in her glowing red dress, and guided the ships home.

Lin Mo’s fame as a healer and Buddhist scholar spread far and wide. Then one day when she was about 28 years old, she realized it was time for her to leave behind the Earthly plane, and that she must go alone. Her grieving family and friends watched her climb a mountain near her home, and saw her carried into the sky by swirling clouds of thick fog. To celebrate her life of service, she was elevated to the list of Buddhist deities and declared to be a goddess by the Chinese government.

Today, millions of seafarers still invoke Matsu when they take a boat out, and thank her when they return safely. Her attributes of wisdom, protection and benevolent magic reflect her life’s work. She encourages us to remember the importance of balance in our lives, and to acknowledge troubling issues and resolve them with loving intention. Doing this will help us achieve a healing unity of mind, body and spirit. And when the storms of life become too much for us to cope with, we can call on Matsu and draw strength from her compassionate presence.

The Day I Talked to a Hawk

Sharp-shinned Hawk Image from jane-domain.com

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Thanks to having a complete bird cafeteria in our back yard, it’s not unusual for hawks to visit, looking for their own kind of snack. This winter we’ve seen a Sharp-Shin Hawk several times, perching right on the branch that holds the main feeding station. I’ve begun to wonder whether he might be sick or injured, and looking for an easy meal.

Yesterday afternoon the hawk was there again. I went to the window and looked for identifying marks while I sent reassuring energies to the bird. It was so convenient that he was facing away from me, so I could see his tail and body colors. I noticed his legs were BRIGHT yellow, and he kept picking up his right foot and setting it down again, perhaps because it was so bitter cold that day and his branch was coated with icy snow.

I said: “Blessings to you, hawk friend! I bless both the hunter and the hunted. My name is Peggy. Will you share your name with me?”

The hawk shifted around some, and looked toward me inside the house (I don’t know whether he could see through the glare on the patio door). I assured him I was harmless, and wished him well. I didn’t feel any return messages. Finally he flew up to the neighbor’s tree, then left.

So last night, I thought I would try again while I was in mid-sleep mode. I pictured the hawk in my mind, and asked if he would speak with me. This time I introduced myself as Winter Bear, and asked again if he would share his name. I heard the word “ankle”.

Hmmm… An unusual name for a hawk, but maybe he was giving me a practical way to identify him. I asked him to confirm if that was his name, or he was describing an injury.

“Gowadji.”

Wow! The hawk was very specific about how to spell his name – the letters appeared in my mind as I heard his name. I thanked him and sent him good wishes, and asked if he would share whether he was male or female. I explained that knowing this would help me to communicate with him.

And I heard the word “pregnant”!

Gowadji knew exactly what SHE was doing all along, right down to positioning herself so I would have the best view of the field marks typical of her kind (on two occasions!). And she was patient enough to wait until I got the idea to try to talk to her.

I’ve contacted Gowadji once since that day, briefly. She assured me that her ankle had healed, and graciously declined my offer of human assistance. Since she went to some trouble to get my attention, I’d love to ask her whether she’d like to “meet” again. Even if she decides not to, I’ve still got a terrific story to share. I just wish I had been able to take some photos of this beautiful being, but maybe I’ll get another opportunity!