KlaLa's dark eyes, lustrous in the soft light. mesmerized me by the inner force of her being. Her voice, soft but firm, repeated her statement.
"Woman must regain her own inner power if the world of mankind is to survive. There is no alternative. The imbalance between the poles of created life, human life, can no longer exist. The race of man on earth will not continue as long as one polarity dominates, degrades, and abuses another. It is against divine law; it is repugnant to any truly civilized race."
I stared at her, fascinated by the grace of her movements, the quiet authority emanating from her. Without effort, she commanded attention and instinctive respect.
At the same time I was painfully aware of the contrast between us. My shapeless muumuu covered a body that reflected the stress of time devoted to the welfare of others. I felt shame; the shame of my spirit that had resigned itself to being shunted off on a siding of life. Like the ancient passive acceptance of an old Eskimo woman who took her place on an ice floe to drift outward to a lonely, ignoble death.
She interrupted my thoughts, having read the images in my mind clearly. "In much of your world there is little difference in the attitude toward women today, for all the much touted liberation. Men also experience the rejecton of society unless they have acquired the coin of the realm and the power it can supply in your world.
"But for those who honor the message of the heart before the lure of acquisition, there is not even grudging respect. You are consigned to society's own brand of ice floe to drift silently, ignored and forgotten, toward a nameless death.
"Yet there are few in your world who could walk the road you and many of your sisters have walked. Without support, either financial or emotional, you still held to the integrity of the heart's wisdom."
Her lovely dark lashes lay against pale golden perfect skin as she glanced at something on the crystal table before her. Again those brilliant, commanding eyes met mine.
"And this is why this story must be told. Its time has come. It will be told first as fiction, for as one of your eminent journalists of the past once said: 'Truth can only be told as fiction.' It can only be introduced behind the protective mask that fiction provides.
"For those who are ready -- it becomes fact. They identify with and rcognize the truth behind the mask. They receive the message clearly. For those who are not ready, it presents only a harmless story, a moment's entertainment. And if it challenges their proud intellects and prejudices, it is easily dismissed as pure fantasy.
"Still, my Sister, the message will have gone forth into the ethers of the collective mind. The seed will have been sown. And one day it will blossom, even in the consciousness of those who at first ridicule its message."
I asked: "But who will tell such a story? One that you say will challenge the opinions and beliefs of mankind. It would have to be someone who has already received public acceptance, whose work is already known, wouldn't it?"
"No, my Sister. The tale will be spun from an ordinary life that is not so ordinary after all. You, my Sister, will tell our story. The story of Woman -- of her great and noble place and purpose in the Creator's plan."
I stared at her, momentarily struck dumb by the import of her words. "But," I stammered, "my life has been so ordinary, at least outwardly. Even my writing has always been more for my own pleasure and growth. So who would pay attention to any story I wrote, especially one such as you describe?"
He smile was warm and very gentle; it softened the strength of her face. Feminine, very feminine, but one sensed the controlled power that lay behind the beauty of face and form.
"That, my Sister, is where the Tonti comes in."
She saw my startled expression. "Yes, you know this word well, but do you know its actual meaning?"
I shook my head. "No, not actually."
"He is all things to Woman -- Counselor, Friend, Protector, Provider -- the Husband of her Spirit. Our Beloved. He is, in short, the fifth and final face of her god." She settled back in her comfortable chair.
"Man, you know, created his own god. First as Father, created in man's image, not the other way around. So the Father of your world's religions became a commanding, authoritative figure, subject to fits of wrath and capable of punishing his disobedient children. A vengeful, judgmental god who declared 'an eye for an eye!.'"
I nodded, remembering the God of Moses with his innumerable laws and his unmerciful judgments.
KlaLa smiled in agreememt. "But man does not remain a helpless child. Evolution exists in the unfoldment of consciousness, even as physical evolution ocurred in your world to refine a vehicle to house the Essence."
She rose and walked gracefully to a huge window, curved to conform to the ship. Outside, the blackness of space emphasized the lustrous whitenss of her gown, girdled with gold around her waist. The material, softer than silk, seemed to move with her, outlining the slender lines of her body.
I was silent, overwhelmed by my surroundings. The uncluttered atmosphere of the room did not give the feeling of sparseness. Instead, the effect was one of elegance reduced to perfect functional comfort.
She turned, smiling at my wide-eyed observation. "We follow one of your poet soul's advice: 'Simplify, simplify, simplify.' Yet, as you have already observed, we do not sacrifice comfort in any way."
She seated herself again across from me at the crystal table. Her slender, expressive hands rested on top of a crystal tablet in front of her.
"And now I would address you in a word from our language. . .Sulari. It means Sister of Light, and is not used lightly. It is a key to your awakening, to your memory, and it is right at this time that you should be so addressed."
I repeated the word as she had pronounced it. "Soo-la-ree." The sound was sibilant and pleasing. It struck a spark within.
KlaLa was watching my reaction intently, and seemed pleased at what she sensed; that the word had indeed touched a part of me, but she gave no further explanation.
She continiued: "The second face man created for his god added the softness, to a limited degree, of woman. Ancient religions addressed the truth in that there were gods and goddesses. Later, religions made woman a secondary figure, extolling primarily her biological function. But women instinctively sensed her true importance, and their prayers were often addressed to her rather than the patriarchial figure identified in most of earth's religions."
I murmured, "Mary. The mother of Jesus."
Again she nodded. "And through her, another, a third face of man's god, a Savior, came to man's mind. Someone to absolve man of his own ignorance and error. But the image and message of this Great One sent to your world was warped and twisted, again to man's expediency. Ceremony and myth were woven together to produce a concept of forgiveness by the mere act of acknowledging His presence on your world.
"Gone was the lesson He came to teach, to demonstrate. That the duality of mankind, expressed in his own life as Son of Man and Son of God, need not be a permanent state. That Oneness with the Creator of All could be achieved if man would surrender his ego, which carries the genetic aggressiveness and territorial instincts of the body, to the greater image placed within by the Creator.
"Instead, this One was deified into a glorified excuse for man to continue his own ignorance and his warlike tendencies, even in the name of the One, because all would be forgiven would it not? No great effort was demanded to emulate this One because he was accorded the distinction of being unique. Therefore, it was considered impossible to achieve his exalted state of consciousness. And thus mankind was robbed of the Call to unfold its own innate Christhood. Yet by the words attributed to this One in your religious writings, he denied his uniqueness. 'Ye are gods. That which I do, ye may do also, and greater.'" Her dark eyes met mine squarely. "Is this not so?"
I bowed my head, feeling the weight of the world's ignorance touch me. "Yes, perhaps we are still children who need someone to rescue us from our own ignorance. And another to blame as the cause in the first place."
KlaLa smiled tenderly. There was no judgment in those beautiful eyes. "Yes, mankind has covered its own actions, its own thoughts, very conveniently. It is true of all of earth's religions. Man has refused responsiblity for his own creative power by delegating responsibiity for both good and evil outside himself.
"It was only late in your last century that another face of your god could be introduced. The judgmentalism of the Father, the gentle but passive influence of the Mother, and the immaturity and fear that require a Savior have all prepared the way of a wider view for some -- to that of Elder Brother, One who walks beside man, who provides the loving guidance and protection that an older, wiser, and caring brother would provide for a much younger sibling."
I looked at her expectantly. "I can see our progression up to four. Do we move beyond Elder Brother in our understanding?
"Yes, for woman, to the Tonti. It is a word revered in our language. It has great meaning, but it is difficult to translate to your language. I will try." She hesitated. "It implies highest trust, deepest love, and a personal relationship that exceeds any so far assigned to any other face of your god. He is primarily Woman's avatar.
She was silent for a moment, then added: "Man has a similar companion, but we will deal with that later."
I was curious, eager to understand. To know more of the true meaning of this long familiar word. "Is this what we call a guardian angel?"
She smiled, clearly enjoying my curiosity. "In some respects, yes. But it is more, much more, as you my Sulari have already discovered."
Continuing. . .
CHAPTER ONE - THE PRESENCE
(Preview of a fiction-fact book? Final form undecided}
Copyright (c) 2010 by A La Lansun
