Zara the Sacred Feminine
“Who are you?” the Magus directly confronts Zara on that first afternoon in Temple Bar.
“I’m Zara Steinhart on my spiritual journey,” her instant reply, tone sharp and piercing.
“This is your problem, young woman, you have given an answer to a question not asked. I did not solicit your name or the reason why you are here, I asked something completely different. So tell me please. Who are you?”
Finding it sudden and offensive, Zara struggles with her mind. “I am woman on this planet,” her voice quivering.
“Close, but not close enough,” the Magus hits back; sense of authority in his voice triggering her resentment. Rising to her feet she challenges, raw anger flashing in her deep blue eyes: “What do you mean? My God, I am woman, as real as you can get, having suffered enough by the hand of man to know it!” Tense fingers cut through her hair: “Are you another such man pushing your falseness before me?”
The face of the Magus lights up. “Be assured I can see it,” he proclaims in calm certitude. “Your outer fire does not eclipse your inner radiance. You are indeed woman, the new woman of this earth. However, there's something far more prevalent you may have forgotten. When you tell me you're here on your spiritual journey I know you've started on the wrong foot. You see yourself as a human in search of your spirit. What a terrible plight! You're attached to your body that's going to suffer pain, get sick, grow old and die. This is the world, your world Zara that's happening through your particular mind.”
Anger contorts her face. “What do you mean it’s my world? My suffering is inflicted upon me by man’s stupidity. Am I not a victim of his world of screwed-up ideas? And I’m supposed to respect it!” ...
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