The Devouring Mother

That night, after Mary's house, I dream:

There is a couple who have been trying really hard to have a baby. I am walking down a street. Intuitively I know that some tragedy befell the baby and it is dead. Darkness has descended and out of nowhere this baby's mother appears and startles me. She has turned into a fierce red and black cat-woman creature. She is screaming. Pure rage. She grabs me and begins to dig her claws into me. I scream, "No, No, No."

Bob wakes me up as I am still screaming out. I have finally scared him. He held me as I cried - overtaken by the disturbing images of the dream. And even though I was safe, the whole world seemed shot through with her energy. He falls back asleep. I lay in bed rigid, my eyes wide open terrified of falling asleep.

The night sounds of Kusadasi are right on top of me. The gravel crunches as people pass by sounding ominous and loud. I am afraid to remain awake for fear that she lurks beneath my window. Irrationally I convince myself that the slightest curiosity on my part to look out the window will result in my death. She will devour me as well. I know she ate that baby. The black and red on her face. The red is the blood of all those innocents that she has consumed. I fear my flesh is not safe here. I write in my journal. There is nowhere else to go. I can write by the light of the street lamps passing through the sheer curtains. I want to make sense of this intensity that is coursing through me.

It can't be a coincidence that all of this female mother imagery is emerging. And then tonight I dream of the devouring mother. Her form in India is Kali. She wears a ring of skulls around her neck and she is black...the darkest of the dark. In my dream she is a cat, feline, an animal form almost always associated with feminine energy. Her fierceness haunts me even as I write and tell myself this was only a dream. Hmmmm...only a dream. I promise to never tell my child such paltry words in the face of the evil of a nightmare. Is that supposed to comfort me? Knowing that she is still out there? Or rather even more frightening - she is within me and waiting to pounce.

I remember when a friend told me after church one Sunday morning that she would like to travel alone in Turkey. She wondered if traveling with Bob would dampen the spiritual aspects of this journey. But now huddled in bed, I know he is protecting me by keeping me grounded. Everything feels so heightened in this moment. My ears are so sensitive that I feel like I am able to hear every sound - every single solitary sound. Few of them are familiar.

Turkey is different from Greece. In Greece I spent my time lying nude on the beach relaxing, swimming, soaking up the sun. But this Turkey is another land.

The feminine energy oozes from the earth. The land is fertile. Everywhere we go there is fresh produce. Fields grow every crop imaginable. This land is a woman constantly giving birth. And yet the patriarchy of Islam is embedded as deep as the roots of the ancient trees. I am coming to believe that the men here are afraid of the power of woman...afraid of her mystery which is the power and mystery of creation itself. Perhaps the laws that control women's experience and daily lies are an attempt to compensate for such strong feminine energy. And maybe I have never experienced true feminine energy unmediated- rising up from the earth and holding you like a mother or devouring you like a monster.

I pray - Please God let me sleep without any more nightmares. I am aware that tonight I pray to God the Father. I want to be protected from the fierceness of the feminine - perhaps from the fierceness of myself.