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'The Firegoddess'
Textile-art (size ± 70 cm)
Book 'The Firegoddess' Author: Roelien de Lange
The cover of
this book is an artwork of the Hawaiian Firegoddess
named 'Pele' (see
original artwork above, created by
the author).
'Pele Honua Mea' (Goddess of the Sacred Earth and the Fire
of Hawaii), is a source of inspiration for her. It is a
mirror for her own fire-energy, sexuality and
life-energy.
The book is an exciting travel-story but gives a deep
healing energy as well. The author wrote the book with
her eyes mostly closed, speaking in a light trance-state,
while others typed her words. In this state of
consciousness, dolphins, trees and other
sensitive-beings seemed to help her writing the book.
The reader will participate on a intuitive journey
through the exercises and the messages from the
nature-kingdom. Next to the beautiful nature-experiences,
a healing takes place of
some disturbing events in the authors past. This old
pain is harmonized through shamanic experiences, working
with dreams and nature. It is a healing process that
touches the energy of the earth-mother and the feminine
in every reader. The insights in past life-experiences,
her family-constellation and the war-traumas of her
father, brought an intensive process of empowerment as
well. After a long quest, the inner work as described in
the book (see cover below), brought her the perfect partner for life.
Excerpt from the book (page 30):
At last the moment has come, dolphins are nearby, and
I try to climb down the small metal steps with my
flippers on. It doesn’t work. My legs are twisted and I
almost disappear under the boat, steps and all. “Just
let go”. Let your snorkel fill up and learn to relax
with the goggles well-adjusted so that you can breathe
underwater.
Here I am, swimming in the middle of the ocean far from
the coast.
cover of the book "The Firegoddess"
The water under me slowly disappears in ever deeper blue
shades and becomes quite dark a long way beneath. For a
moment I feel panicky, but then I forget everything. In
the sunlight that colours the water a lovely turquoise I
see the large grey-blue bodies of dolphins rushing past.
They swim a few meters under me, a lustrous
mother-of-pearl shade shimmering in the rays of the sun.
At ten meters depth, they seem surrounded by mysterious
blue, and deeper down their silverblue bodies pass in a
purple mist. I can just make them out against the deep
violet of the oceandeep.
To my astonishment I hear incredible singing in my head.
It sounds like the ringing of sonorous Tibetan bowls,
like the alluring song of mermaids. The stories of
sailors wanting to jump overboard come alive. The sound
is all around me and yet is comes from the dolphins. I
feel it strongly when, once again, a group of these
magical beings are swimming underneath. Clear and close,
their undulating timbre resonates through me as music. I
am not using my human ears so much as I receive it with
my entire yearning being. The experience is engraved as
long as I live. The experience takes me into another
realm all together. It may bring me in the dolphin world
later on, at any time.
For a brief moment I feel myself lifted up into the high
reverberation, and cease to exist. My consciousness
moves in a universe of pure space and light. Love
resonates as the song of ultimate bondage sings in my
heart. I wave through the water harmoniously at dolphin
speed. The groups swim in total synchronicity,
undulating through a blue universe.
Suddenly it stops. My goggles are leaking and fill
rapidly with seawater. I try to breathe, and choke.
Coughing and sneezing I emerge. The brilliant sun hurts
my eyes. Expelled from paradise, my tears mingle with
the sea. Treading water I try to fix the goggles. My
hair is caught in the elastic band. Only by using two
hands I manage to pull it tight. Meanwhile my eyes hurt,
my throat is full of salt, and when I look down there
are only the blue-grey depths beneath. Then the sun
disappears behind the clouds and all of a sudden
everything gets grey and dangerous. An old fear from
childhood crops up.
As a three-year old we used to live on a large estate
that belonged to a lady-dowager. In the huge garden
there was a big, dark pond. My mum was always anxious
that I’d drown one day, and kept on telling me not to go
there as a terrible monster lurked deep down. I’d almost
forgotten about it, but now it all came back.
Frightened I look into the dark and deep water. There
may be sharks down there, or manta rays. This morning I
saw them in the pictures hanging in the boating office.
Hastily I try to reach the boat which has drifted off
considerably. The waves are swept high by the wind and
I’m getting very tired. Only just in time do I make it
to the boat. As I’m hanging onto the rope, awaiting my
turn to climb on board, I resolve to work on the old
fear.
Fortunately I start to feel more centred after asking my
spirithelpers to come to my aid. Only now I notice that
you have to remove your flippers underwater. They seem
to stick to your feet as if they are fixed with a strong
glue. You have to hold on to the rope with one hand and
take off the fin with the other without dropping it.
While handing it to the boatsman you try to wriggle out
of the other one. At the same time your shoulders are
practically wrenched out of their sockets because the
boat is swaying intensely. One moment the skippers
blonde moustache looms up very close, whereas the next
moment you see his hairy legs and take an unexpected
peep-show inside his shorts .
At last I gratefully climb up the steps, realising how
easily my body could have become dislocated. Everybody
is impressed with the dolphins. Some hug each other,
others just stare in the distance. There is a general
feeling of mild exhaustion. A large box containing Pepsi
Cola and chocolate bars is opened. Health food is
unheard of. Luckily there is some mineral water. Mia an
I exchange thoughts. She has had more diving experience
than I have, off the coast in Tenerife. I appears that
she, too is pissed off with the loud Americans pushing
for their turn. Later on I learn that Mia’s Belgian
education was pretty strict which made it more difficult
for her to handle the situation. As for me, I just
managed to throw in the odd bit of humour. I feel sorry
for her, after all it’s all a bit much after what we had
been led to expect. However, at the same time I can
still feel the underwater concert in my head, singing
and reverberating. Carefully I ask the others, but no
one seems to have heard it.
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