Copyright (C) 2000 by William Mistele. All rights reserved. Posted by permission of Peresch Publications.
Note: This is a story from the book, Mystical Fables.
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A Well-Known Saying of Lugnas, the Peacemaker:
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“God is a tough negotiator. You have to be extremely alert, sharp, and know what you are talking about if you want to make a deal. But if you feel you are about to lose the next round, there is always a way to pin Him down. Just remind Him that He is the Creator and that all you want to do is learn the same trade like any son or daughter--convince Him of that and you have a done deal.”
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Lugnas, the Peacemaker
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You know how it is with young lovers. Even during the battle preparations, Hirah found time to go for walks with Parvan. It was early morning. The two lovers were walking among groves of Eucalyptus and birch trees.
Parvan said to Hirah, “Tell me again the story that the goddess Dawn once told you.”
Hirah said, “I met her one morning when I was meditating inside a stone circle. She appeared in the East and gestured for me to come walk with her. I left the standing stone I had been meditating on and came up beside her. She put her arm around me as we walked through the trees.
“We talked and laughed. I told her about several little birds who kept bumping each other in the air as they tried to sit on very end of branch.
“She pointed to a nest in a tree where two bird were staring at each other in dismay. They seemed to be saying with their eyes: ‘I thought it was your turn to feed the little ones this morning.’ But they had both gone off to feed themselves.
“Then she told me about a bird that sings all night long. Other animals thought it was crazy. When she mentioned this to me, she gestured with her hand and this bird began singing nearby. ‘Why does it sing during the dead of night,’ I asked? She told me a story in reply.
“Once there was a young woman abandoned by her lover. She left her village ashamed and humiliated when she discovered she was pregnant. She knew that the rest of her life she and her child would be social outcasts. So she went off into the woods to die. But there, in the middle of the night, she met the goddess Dawn who appeared and walked along beside her.
“The goddess Dawn spoke to her, ‘If you will put aside your despair and have faith in the light, I will give you a child like no other who has ever walked upon the earth. He shall be called Lugnas, for he will be a child of the sun.’
“’And then I gave her this bird to keep her company during the night as a sign to her, for this bird sings of the coming dawn during the darkest night. She kept the child and her life. She learned that even during the greatest pain and abandonment one can still sing from the depths of one's heart. Even in a place and time of great darkness, beauty still reigns triumphant and marvelous.
“‘And because of her faith, she was able to feel all of her pain--she did not go numb or give in to shock. She did not deny or repress her loss. And so I was able to fulfill my promise to her. The women reclaimed her heart that she had cast off in despair and returned to her village. Since she was already three months pregnant, she bore a son six months later.
“‘As her child grew up he discovered he indeed had special gifts. The birds sang at night wherever he went. But the power of blessing he bestowed was this: people forgot their anger, greed, and conflicts and made peace with each other wherever he went. His presence alone was enough to cause them to feel as if they were filled with light. Suddenly, without explanation, they could see clearly their best course of action no matter how great the confusion. They felt they had taken a narcotic whose essence was inspiration. Such was the power of peace he brought to the earth.
“‘When he was in a town, no one, no matter how cold, callous, or cruel, could think or feel or imagine doing anything unkind or evil. For once in their lives (and often this was for the first time), they felt so happy they could dance and be friendly with even their worst enemies.
“‘The priests in that land who were high initiates said of Lugnas, “It is one of the Guardians of the planetary spheres who has come down to guide, to inspire, and to serve Lugnas. (But in our own time, those who study the Quabbalah would know quite well that it was Aziel, one of the spirits of the Schem-Ham-Phoras, the secret name of God, who had taken an interest in or let us say that, in a most benevolent way, overshadowed Lugnas.)
When Lugnas was in town, the air itself was more clear. Instead of being able to see islands fifty miles off in the sea, those standing on shore could see islands two hundred miles away as if they were next door. And there were other phenomena too--activities that were are normally annoying and irritating become playful and humorous. Frustration switched to delight. The worst and darkest secrets were understood for what they were and left behind.
“‘And the enemies who turned into friends--for them, it was like this: the one you hate the most suddenly becomes a mirror that reflects back to you the path and the means for attaining your deepest dreams. And so it was that people put down their arts of war and began celebrating the new friends they had miraculously found.
“‘Of course, there was an odd note that accompanied this mode of making peace that turned enemies into friends. Some individuals resisted and refused to be so easily ensorcelled. They felt as if something strange was happening to them, as if they had misplaced something. But what they had lost was only their greed and fear. The darkness and hatred in their past strived within their souls to reawake, but these powers returned only like bits and pieces of bad dreams that had mostly faded away by morning.’”
Now I am sure the question occurs as to whether Lugnas was somehow depriving individuals of their free wills by making evil and malice nearly impossible to feel. Let me be quite clear and insist on this point. Lugnas did not alter anyone’s will. He merely changed the conditions under which they feel. Perhaps you have observed how this works in your own or others’ lives. When you are around someone with great power and a loving heart, you discover your own mistakes and errors right at the start. The light is so bright you can not deny that the darkness inside you is of your own making.
Hirah went on relating the story told by the goddess Dawn, “‘Lugnas’ career as a peacemaker started when a woman grew very tired of having her sons killed one after the other in a longstanding feud between her clan and another. She called Lugnas to come and help, thinking perhaps there was some enchantment or blessing that accompanied a man for whom the birds sing from dust to dawn.
“‘And sure enough, when Lugnas took up residence in the village, the next morning the rival clans were out fixing fences together and digging wells. And later in the evening, they were all drinking together in the pub. After this success, Lugnas assigned himself the job of walking around the kingdom visiting all the villages where there was strife and dire conflicts. When you find your nitch--something you are good at--it is a pleasure to pursue it.
“‘His miraculous powers to bring peace were so predictable and consistent, that Lugnas came to be regarded as a force of nature, like lightning, winter, or spring--something you can not resist--you just have to accept it. His reputation grew so strong that when people heard he was coming around, on their own initiative, they put aside their differences and make peace.
“‘They then sent Lugnas a messenger who showed him a written agreement. They agreed to live in harmony for an entire year. The rival factions or enemies would avoid strife in any form. Or else they sent him gold and jewels to hold in his safekeeping, to be turned over to the poor, should they fail to keep their promise.
“‘They knew that if he heard they were bickering, it was as likely as not that he would come calling. They would then be so struck by peace and overwhelmed by harmony, they would end up moving in with their enemies and treating them as long lost friends and relatives. But this result was too embarrassing to contemplate. Even enemies could find common cause and work together to avoid such an outcome that traded pride and strife for humility and a new way of life.
“‘Now I am sure that will understand that eventually someone would contrive a plan that would counterbalance and undermine the influence of Lugnas. Sure enough, two villages had a feud that had been going on as long as anyone could remember--kind of like in modern times when clans or tribes of the same country have hated each other more than they hate foreign invaders. And Lugnas, they found out, was headed their way.
The villagers elders heard the rumors and reviewed the testimony concerning Lugnas from credible witnesses. The opposing village councils then conceived a plan to avoid this strange dawning of peace. They had always fought each other and they hoped to continue until one or the other clan was finally annihilated.
“‘Not wishing to have their traditions violated by a will not their own, the people in both villages agreed to leave before Lugnas was due to arrive. They moved far into surrounding hills. But Lugnas still came. He settled casually into one of the houses as if it had his name written on the door.
“‘A few nights passed and then weeks. But the people knew Lugnas was hanging out because the birds kept singing all night. So they decided to send a spy to find out exactly what he was doing. But there was no one willing to go. They were too much afraid of Lugnas. Just listening to the stories about Lugnas could made many of them sick to their stomachs for days at a time.
“‘But at last, a blacksmith who has a strong stomach said he would go and see for himself if the rumors were true or not. He crept down to the valley before dawn. He took a position just outside the village though he felt terribly uncomfortable with all the birds singing in the trees above.
“‘When the blacksmith returned three days later, his report was very bad. This was his story: He said that he had witnesses first hand the appearance of a great being of light, a vast angelic power in the form of a huge man. This spirit descended from the sky, leaping down on top of the house where Lugnas was staying. And then it climbed right inside through the roof. It stayed all night and left again at dawn.’”
Hirah at this point turned to Parvan and said, “I don't know why it is, but it is always sheer agony for me when I go on walks with the goddess Dawn. My eyes are flooded with tears. A thin, high, silent scream rips free from the core of my being when I am in her presence.”
And Parvan said as she placed the palm of her hand on Hirah's chest, “Perhaps when she touches you with the power of her light she reaches the darkest places within your soul. Her touch empowers your heart to feel all the pain you hold. She brings to life and lets flow feelings that it would otherwise take many lifetimes to let go of. She thaws the ancient numbness of soul buried in the heart of the human race.”
Hirah said, “Now Parvan, do I notice a trace of jealously in your voice? Have I made you uncomfortable with this talk of my flirting with goddesses at dawn and twilight? The pain and agony I experience is but a small price to pay for the experience of such beauty.
“Parvan, it is you I embrace at night. All goddesses are but reflections of the love which shines from the center of your heart.”
Parvan: “Yah, sure, right. If it is pain and agony that makes you feel loved I will give you some right now.” And with that Paravn dug her fingers into Hirah's ribs. And Hirah taking her hands into his says, “Ok, ok, back to our story. I concede. You are not jealous. My mistake.”
Parvan asked, “Answer me this--What does the goddess say to you when you ask her about this pain you experience in her presence?”
Hirah answers, “She says, ‘Sometimes you have to allow your heart to be torn in two to make way for new light to appear. Your only other choice is to allow your heart to turn numb like a stone.’”
Parvan asks, “Do I have that effect on you?” Now, as a warrior, Hirah had been trained to walk on thin ice. He had been taught to remain alert and centered as if an ambush might occur at any moment. No doubt it was this training that enabled Hirah to carefully phrased his reply.
He said, “As I have been telling you, the goddesses are but poor reflections of the love I see in you. When I am near to you Parvan, Dawn is forever rising anew--the light falling through green leaves shed ecstasy in molten pathways of light on the ground. These shadows here call out your name to me, telling me that unlike them, the source of Life itself shines from within my heart--this is your love and gift to me. When you kiss me I forget who I am. The darkness within me is vanquished by your beauty. Even the goddess Dawn can not do that.
“Though Love is Eternal and complete in itself, it is equally true that in each moment we journey toward it. In your presence, I awake for the first time. The leaf, the blade of grass, the trees, the infinite interplay of color, light, and darkness, these are monuments to your tenderness. I see though the eyes of love, though your eyes and my eyes both, and I hold this vision without faltering.”
And taking Parvan's hand and holding it between his palms, Hirah says, “In these lines upon the palms of those who have found true love can be read the fate of the world.”
The two lovers embrace. Parvan always did like Hirah's poetry almost as much as his touch on her skin.
Later Hirah went on relaying the story told to him by the goddess Dawn. “‘Well, let's see. The people from the two villages got together in a little valley up in the hills to discuss the situation. For the first time ever, they were in complete agreement: all of them refused to surrender to the saint's power.
“‘This left them little alternative. They would have to stay up in the hills adding rooms onto shepherd’s’ huts, making the most of sheep herding, gathering wild berries, and such. But for them it was a small price to pay for freedom--these people were vehement about their independence, their right to determine their own destinies.
“‘An entire year past. Lugnas was still living down in one or another of their old villages. But they just took it stride and settled down where they were. Their families were pretty much scattered about the hills. So they formed a new village where they could get together and pool their resources to survive this common calamity that had befallen them.
“‘They were like those who have just gotten divorced and were done dividing their assets. But now, impoverished, they still get together over a drink to complain about the cost of their attorneys and the rotten way things had turned out. For some, finding fault with the world will always be a favorite pastime.
“‘Years pasted. The people never went back to their old villages. They were too terrified of Lugnas even though he had long since left them to their own devices. They thought his presence had contaminated their entire valley with dreams of peace. He had contaminated even the night--birds started singing to greet the dawn round about midnight. No, these folks would not allow Lugnas to get the upper hand, not over them he won’t.
“‘So they stayed up in those hills enjoying their poverty, their solitude, and their freedom. As far as they were concerned, the fact that they no longer brawled or killed each other was altogether beside the point. And from time to time when someone married a member of the other clan--that was all right. It was a way of strengthening their collective will to fight the light--that is, the injustice when someone else tells you what is right or how to live your life.’”
Hirah went on: “There are a few stories the goddess is in the process of telling me. But these stories are not yet done because you and I still have roles to play in them.”