What is fear but Your warm embrace, my Lord, which reminds me that I am precious; that my life is worthy of the cost of living? You stimulate my instincts and my sense of preservation.
What is fear but a catalyst to greater things; greater awareness of my limitations, and of the impact of my will unrestrained? You restrict my maneuvers when I’ve thought less about them than my desire.
What is fear but a dissonant chord struck to wake me from unproductive dreams; from stagnation and complacency, from perilous behaviour and inaction? You liven me to move when stillness threatens to expose or suffocate me.
What is fear but Your Will made evident within the wilderness of this, our modern age; a reminder of that which must be conquered, O Conquerer; of that which must be resisted with every breath of human life? You revivify my oaths to be true and loyal to none and nothing other than what serves the greatest good within my own ability to accomplish.
And for this, Apollon, my Beloved Lord, I thank You.
— Columbine, Aegletia, Day 4, 2022
Day 4
*Celebrating Leto and the ferocious spirit the Holy Twins have inherited from Their Mother.
**Acknowledging risk, danger, fear, and the unknown; existing within the liminal spaces of existence.
Allegorical scene, probably the Goddess Leto. Attributed to José Mirabent y Catell.
Who is Leto? Who is Leto in relation to Her Children? Who is Leto outside of that relation, and why would one choose to honor Her as more than the Mother of Artemis and Apollon? Surely this is all She is. After all, this seems to be all that survives of our knowledge of Her from antiquity. This is not true of course; surviving lore notwithstanding. Once one makes a commitment to getting to know this Goddess, on Her own terms, one quickly finds not only the demure Consort, smiling placidly under thick veils meant to enforce an otherworldly (and necessary) distance, but also a very vibrant, opinionated, and dangerous beauty. But what could be so dangerous about a perpetual mother figure? What indeed….
I think oftentimes the pride Leto bears for Her offspring allows us to overlook the life She led prior to Their births, and the fervent cultus that followed after Her, in Her own right. Leto allows this because She is indeed not boastful of Herself, alone. A Goddess who enjoys very much the trinity She shares with Her Children, She seems to prefer to be remembered relative to Them. And we honor Her when we honor Them. Yet, I posit here that we must not forget who Leto is and was to the people who praised Her for Herself.
So, who is Leto? She is a Goddess of change, and of carnage. A Goddess who sees the truth of what must be, and makes it happen. She is not passive. She is not weak, in any sense of the word. Leto wields Her life, Her honor, and Her will like the edge of a sabre, cleaving through obstacles as if they were mere sport. Because She thrives on opposition, is a bold strategist, and sways with the slightest glance, as well as the clever word. She became Zeus’ Consort through sheer force of will, and not a small amount of mystery.
She who owns Herself, only reveals Herself to those She chooses. Leto chose Zeus. She who owns Herself is not intimidated by those who have come before. Leto won Hera’s respect by respecting Herself; by knowing Her worth and bargaining to bring that value into the Court on Olympos. Ever confident, and ever gracious is the Goddess Leto, who is also the Mother of Wolves, seeking Her prey with bared fangs.
Leto walks the line between regal and feral. She is the embodiment of feminine duality (which is not and never was exclusive to ciswomen), and through Her guidance and example, we all may learn to carry our will as both a weapon to be admired for its edge, and a gift to be bestowed upon those we choose.
In this sense, we are also children of Leto, supping at the foot of our Blessed Mother. So in the end, although we have acknowledged that much of Her sphere lay outside the confines of Motherhood, we see that, by Her own design (as all things in Her life are), even what lay outside, is fully integrated into Her most well understood Divine properties. She both is, and is not defined by Her own perception of Her role as Mother.
I invite you to continue this contemplation before a representation of Leto, on this, the fourth day of Aegletia. Behold Her Glory, and attempt to understand these mysteries, as they relate to you personally. I can only impart my own impressions, and the Goddess Herself is supreme in knowing the ways and properties of Her domain. Seize this opportunity to be with Her, to learn directly from Her, for She is not often so accessible, choosing mostly to remain Our Lady, Ever Removed.
Also, keep in mind that you may or may not come to the same conclusions I have. It’s taken me years to come this far. We all interpret information differently, and we don’t all receive the same information, to begin with. Settle your own mind, in your own way.
Hail, Leto, Blessed of Herself! Hail, Leto, speaking quiet truths! Hail our Lady, Mother of the Twins, Most Magnificent! Hail, Leto, Consort of Zeus, and counterpart to Hera, our Queen!
Hail, Leto, in Her own right!
Hail, Leto, of the Blessed Veil!
“Leto, pregnant with the twins Artemis and Apollo, with the eagle of Zeus at her feet”, by Hendrik Goltzius.
O Blessed Mother, veiled and mysterious, shrouded in twilight, obscured in the light; we see You on the brink of night and day. This morning/evening, Your pull is evident, both viscerally and emotionally!
I felt what holy terror pools beneath Your feet, lapping at our tender ankles; and I have felt the love which You, Righteous Mother, have offered up to the world! You are like a star of the North, and Your radiance becomes You, O Leto!
Mother of Artemis, Mother of Apollon, prideful Consort of Zeus, we revere and embrace You, and Your audacity! Through Your will, You earned the Queen’s favor, and Her respect, and thus was a home made for You, beside the King!
Yet the Queen’s favor is as harsh as Hera is unyielding, and Her respect comes at a price. So did You, Leto, then traverse the earth for Your birthing place; such was the Trial of the Queen.
Fleeing pursuit beside a flowing river, You rested, and Artemis came. Later, when You were spent from the necessity of travel, when no known land would allow You true respite, the island Delos, land of Asteria, rose from the grave-like sea, Her rocky soil offering rest and peace.
And upon Your Sister’s body, newly reborn from the briny waters, did You labor greatly, for nine days and nine nights!
Hearing Your pangs, O Mother, Goddesses descended from Their thrones, coming swiftly to Your aid! Within Your unbound cries, Goddess Most Striking, the glorious truth was revealed! A Son would be born to Zeus!
A mighty Son, a haughty Son. A Prince most supreme, and the Goddesses came; all but Eileithyia, Hera’s own.
But there was to be no worry, for even as Eileithyia longed to perform Her duty, so too did Bright Artemis, infant already born! Clever was She even then; and pragmatic. Listening to Eileithyia’s whispers, those concealed by Your own cries, Leto, Brave Artemis delivered Your Son into the world!
Such was His beauty, such was His power– newly beheld– that all Goddesses present were moved in awe!
This, dear and Blessed Leto, is how Apollon, Your magnificent Son, our Lord, was born!
If these words have pleased and enticed You, O Lady, join us at our table! Join us along side Artemis, and along side Apollon! If we have made You feel loved and welcome, be pleased to sit with us in honor!
We have laid these offerings out before You, in feast. We pour libations to You. We have set aside a place, just for You!
For all that You are, Wolf Mother, for all that You have done and will do, we give our thanks, love and reverence!
Blessed are You, Leto! Blessed is Artemis! And blessed is Apollon, our Lord!
“Apollo and Diana Slay the Children of Niobe”, by Jan Boeckhorst.
As I (Lykeia) am getting closer to the conclusion of my pregnancy, Leto has been on my mind a lot as she was during my previous pregnancy. I have been trying to find a way to work her into the domestic calendar of my household just because she is such an important goddess, and then it occurred to me, given her associations with the underworld and with motherhood, it would be the most appropriate to honor the goddess just prior to the sunset signifying the beginning of Noumenia as the goddess of the previous period that has died and gone and mothering the new month brought forth by Apollon Noumenios even as she mothered him. It would be akin too to a birth of a new day via the night shroud of the goddess who herself has been described as being darkly garbed in a very concealing and obscure manner.
In some ways the close association with motherhood and the dead is kind of an odd one, but yet in other ways it makes sense, especially given just how dangerous of a time child birth was in the life of a woman. So much so that the clothes of mothers who died in childbirth were offered to Artemis at Brauron. Likewise the transmission of new life into being is so like that of death that it requires a certain period of miasmatic influence from the presence of the spirits and beings associated with death as would a person upon dying (but perhaps less so since the purification period is considerably shorter than the 30 days following the day of a person). Still the very real link between birth and death as having a common access is one that really indicates strongly the nature of Leto as both an underworld goddess and a mother goddess. Especially in cults that believed in reincarnation, we could see this exemplified as a return of souls via the mother as portal. In some ways this may also be linked to an association with Demeter in which the grain goddess in some versions is also the a mother of the god Iakkhos in the netherworld, Demeter herself regarded at times as a mother of the dead likely in a similar manner in which the stones of the earth are linked to the bones of one’s ancestors. The dead and the tomb is intricately linked to the advent of new life. As a goddess linked to the tomb and underworld she is thus the ultimate mother of life. Even her mild, often sweet-tempered and calming disposition (when not riled into anger) is very suggestive of her underworld connection as a kindly being that brings rest and comfort to the souls of the dead even as she grants forth the souls of infants to inhabit the wombs of mothers.
It is of little wonder that creatures that go beneath into the hidden realms of the earth are largely sacred to her, such as bees (creators of sweet elixir) who build hives in the roots of trees, in the earth…and in the myth of her grandson Aristaios in the carcass of bulls, frogs which multiply in great numbers beneath the surfaces of ponds and are intimately connected with the underworld as we see in the play “Frogs” where they keep the nursery of Apollon’s reeds (another teasing connection of birth place and the underworld), earth-denning wolves, as well as serpents and shrew (especially in connection with her syncretism with the Egyptian goddess Wadjet) that likewise nest within the ground and spawn numerous offspring from these recesses. Symbolically then it may seem that the earth itself is spawning the young of these creatures from deep within.
As this makes her even more so a great candidate as the mother of Noumenia, even as her niece Hekate closes the month. This will be a great continuation of what I am already doing at the doorway in which she is the deity I address first in my prayers, as mother of the underworld, mother of mothers, mother of the portal and sacred gates. This has become such a significant part of my understanding of the nature of this goddess and it has had a profound impact on the way I am building my relationship with her and her presence in my oikos. Hail Leto!
The winds, and the wolves howl, O Lord, as You ride forth in the retinue of Your Mother, She in Her chariot, with hair uncovered and trailing behind like a cloak of fine-spun gold to lead the way!
Over the wide Earth, You traverse with Your Mother and Twin, touring all the lands of Your people, and calling the spirits forth to follow in Your train!
So it is each year as Autumn preludes the Winter, as the nights lengthen, and as the leaves begin to turn; that vastness of color, like the sunset in a palate of orange and red!
Lykeios, ride the winds, and we shall shiver at Your passage, while the wild things announce the turning of days in the long months ahead!
O Dread Lord, bare Your teeth, and hear the screeching sounds we make in honor of You; our stomping forewarns the unprepared of Your coming, and of Your going, in the bleakest night!
I see Her there, seated upon the exposed root of a great and aged tree, its leaves turning the colors of blood and fire. She is in Her element, upon Her throne, a visage of civilization still apparent, yet noticeably porous; the act during the feast.
Her host, Her court, all make wide circles within their crowded space, trying to come ever closer to Her, but She is the distance between the stars, and none can traverse the few steps separating them from Her.
In that area, Her Son stands vigil, staring the crowd into submission. He will not allow any to draw near, and delights in the power to instill fear within those who love Her.
She laughs, having been brought to joy by the appearance of Her Daughter, wild and freely dancing with the forest nymphs. They circle Her, and the great tree with hands clasped together.
And Her Son turns to look upon them all, to smile in that sincere way that would cause a mortal heart to stop. And His Sister dares Him with Her haughty eyes.
With one graceful wave of Her delicate arm, the Mother, the Enthroned One, compels the crowd to stillness, while simultaneously inviting Her Son to rule the dance.
And when He takes up His lyre, the forest falls into silence. When He plucks the strings, all the nymphs and spirits swoon. When His voice carries over the tree canopy, all those gathered are entranced.
And She, upon Her throne, is pleased; served sweet water by the creatures of the forest, while nymphs adorn Her golden hair with night-blooming flowers, each as white as the snows which soon will fall.
This is the court of the Dark Mother, this is the feast of the wild things which dwell in the night. This is the host which follows Her over the threshold between Seasons. And this is the stark beauty of life.
Hail to You, Leto, Glorious Mother, and Mistress of Winter’s long nights.
I see into the vast ocean. I dive within the waves. Up and down, they hold no meaning. Sunlight ripples through sleek liquid. I am also this ocean, undulating to the pulse of life’s oldest habitat. I am this ocean of thought. We are all one thought in this ocean.
Now those who see me in this ocean, as I see them, call in emotional ripples, through unimaginable space. Through this ocean, we flow. Our minds are one fluid thought, in this ocean.
This ocean is a drop of water in a greater pond of awareness. This ocean flows into a sea, which is a pond, or a single thought. An idea. This ocean is life. We are the ship of life, sailing through this ocean of tears. Life has been before, and is, and shall be. In this ocean, we drink the tears of life.
Only to drown, in the vast ocean of thought.
We are this ocean of thought, and life, and tears. And we are screaming. Screaming the words which are bound, through us. We are the vessels of this ocean. We take this ocean into ourselves, and we deliver tears and life and thought, to those who remain unsaturated.
We are this ocean of thought. Be mindful of the thoughts crossing this ocean, or be swallowed by them.
~
This particular vision came to me like a storm, and took me away into it. I have been changed by this vision, and at Apollon’s behest, I share it with you. Perhaps it can be useful, perhaps it is only a rambling mess of words. We shall see.
Treasury of Apollon 