asherahlives-blog

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Images of Asherah

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The Pool of Asherah

The dream started with an ordinary-enough yet unusual situation: I was hanging out with two women friends (I didn’t know these women in the dream) at their home, preparing to spend the night there because I was going to accompany the one named Lynn on a road trip the next day as part of my education. I’m 62 in life, and I was 62 in the dream. 

We talked and laughed and had dinner; while cleaning up after the meal, an additional friend knocked and came in through the kitchen door. In unison, Lynn and Lesley said, “Elizabeth Power!” and dissolved in laughter. I was perplexed. Quite aware of my awake-life in the dream, I remembered a friend of friends named Elizabeth Power. I didn’t really know her, but when I met her once, her humor and wisdom were apparent.  

Together, we laughed uproariously for what seemed like ten minutes when I asked, “What time do we leave tomorrow, Lynn?” and she responded, “3:15 am to get to Memphis on time for my meeting.” Elizabeth Power piped up, saying, “It’s 2:30 now! Already tomorrow, girls!” and we practically shouted with laughter, astonished by  the passage of so much time in such a short space of reality. 

In the dream, I had no doubt Lynn spoke of Memphis, Tennessee, since we all lived in the Nashville area, but once we reached our destination, it didn’t seem at all like the Memphis I’ve visited before. Not in the least. Lynn, Elizabeth Power (we always addressed her by her full name) and I took what seemed like the shortest road-trip ever, even though the trip west on I-40 is about 3 hours long and boring, especially in the dark. But we three ladies, absolutely energized by our conversation and laughter, weren’t tired at all. Elizabeth Power, noting there was plenty of time, wanted Lynn to stop at a friend’s home on the river, so Lynn drove there first. 

Dawn was approaching as we parked and headed down a grassy, wooded path.Somehow, I knew this visit was for me; I knew this too was part of my education. The lessons of the past few years have been anything but exciting (more like excruciating), yet for this lesson, I tingled with anticipation. I realized we walked purposefully into a vortex, Elizabeth Power taking the lead. Like a little girl, she skipped along the pathway covered by large pinkish stones, turning to encourage Lynn and me onward. Clearly, she had been here before and knew what was ahead. Lynn spoke to Elizabeth Power and turned around, returning to her car and the meeting she was due to attend. Elizabeth motioned for me to continue, saying “They’re waiting for you, darling! I’ll be along.” Then I was alone. So, I continued. 

The stones in the pathway were very large and their color simply stunning, a golden-pink with white veins, like worn, unfinished marble. Now, a stream was rushing alongside the path, and suddenly the path opened to a huge room with a natural pool in the center, surrounded by the same pink marble. The path of stones ended with one last stone, more worn than the rest, jutting out in the center of the pool. 

I realized I was young, wearing summer sandals, white shorts and a flowy white blouse. I noticed people all around the pool, and others on the path behind me, gently encouraging me to…dive in? I was incredulous, since my mind knew it was a cold, early morning February day. I saw Elizabeth Power, and she nodded. The warmth in her eyes conveyed a joyful, “Yes!” 

Diving in seemed like the most natural, logical thing I ever did. The water was warm and cooling at the same time. It was healing and nurturing. I turned to look at the next person standing on the diving spot; a very old man, stooped over, wearing his best clothes, clean but ragged and wrinkly. He was poor, yet unashamed because in this healing place, all were made welcome. We floated around together, the lines on his face relaxing, his smile becoming a radiant with bliss.

Someone held out a hand and I clambered out of the pool, dripping, but nobody cared. The floor was slightly elevated toward the center with channels along the edges to direct the healing water back to the pool. My white clothes clung to my body, but I wasn’t chilled. In the company of many others, some wet and others dry, we went into another large room with tables of wonderful, fragrant food and drink. The walls and floor were white marble, not polished, but with a patina of antiquity. I thought of Frank Lloyd Wright’s architecture, and the way his ideas bridged the outdoors and indoors in a seamless oneness.

A hush came over the assembled people and Elizabeth Power’s voice, quivering with elation, announced, “She’s here!” An unusual electricity swept over me and I was suddenly and entirely dry. My white attire was gleaming. Some of the people darted around furtively, as if  trying to hide from whoever this “She” was. I had the impression that it wasn’t a good idea to look into her eyes.  I was told to sit on the floor in a darkened storage hallway, but then I caught a glimpse of Her. I wasn’t going to sit on any floor after that!

She was a Goddess, and I knew it. It seemed as though her being was encased in an ancient wooden statue. She seemed unable to move freely, but She was alive and powerful, even though encased in the wooden form so old it was petrified. The statue was about six feet tall, with a long flowing dress carved from the wood, similar in fashion to a Grecian goddess, and I remembered the immense statue of Athena on display in Nashville’s Parthenon. And yet, the residual paint on her face reminded me of Durga, a principal Goddess in the Hindu pantheon, and it would not have surprised me to see multiple arms spring from her form. Her form glided around the room, as if looking for someone.

Elizabeth Power motioned to me from across the room, holding my gaze as I began to walk toward her. I didn’t notice who was behind me until I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard Elizabeth Power laughing again. Whirling around, I looked straight into “Her” eyes and she into mine. I heard “I am Asherah, and so are you” and a lightning bolt ripped through my being with a loud crackling sound as “She” crumbled to dust. A woman’s laughing voice said, “All clear, my darlings!” The gathering merrily resumed and I awakened from the dream.

                                       ***

It was one of those dreams that was really a vision, with a clarity and intelligent aura of truth and authenticity well beyond physical reality. I knew nothing of Ashera before the dream. Sure, I had heard the name and probably pulled an Ashera card from a deck of Goddess cards before, but I didn’t remember anything about her except ‘ancient,’ so the research began. From one of the first (and best) articles I found, I was astonished to read the following: “They worshiped Her [Asherah] under every green tree,” according to the Hebrew Bible (the Old Testament). The Bible also tells us Her image was to be found for years in the temple of Solomon, where the women wove hangings for Her. “In temple and forest grove, Her image was made of wood…carved of a tree, and perhaps the image was a stylized tree of some kind.“The archaeological record suggests that Asherah was the Mother Goddess of Israel, the Wife of God, according to William Dever, who has unearthed many clues to her identity. “She was worshiped…throughout the time Israel stood as a nation. Asherah’s image decorated household shrines. [Many images of  Asherah] emphasize Her breasts, suggesting Her role as a fertility goddess, but Her nature [is] as a mother in general.  She no doubt aided in the concerns of mothers, including conception and childbirth, but was probably also the mother of all, a comforter and protector in an uncertain world. Inscriptions from ancient Israel tell us that Yahweh and “his Asherah” were invoked together for personal protection. Her identification with trees suggests that Asherah was also Mother Nature…She was, in other words, everything you would expect from the feminine half of the divine creative duo, a Great Mother. Who was She, this lost Goddess of the Hebrews? And why is She no longer worshiped in the Judeo-Christian religions of today? Asherah’s image was lost to us not by chance.” 

I thought about ‘Elizabeth Power,’ and how Elizabeth, wife of Zechariah, mother of John the Baptist and Mother Mary’s cousin, was an aid to young Mary’s concerns about becoming a mother, how she comforted and protected Mary in her new and uncertain world, how she empowered Mary to become the Mother to Christ and Mother to the World. Additional research connect Asherah with both the Tree of Life and Sophia (Greek) or Hokmah/Shekinah (Hebrew), the Goddess of Wisdom. For example, Proverbs 3:13-19 says,“Blessed are those who find Wisdom, those who gain understanding, for she is more profitable than silver and yields better returns than gold. She is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her. Long life is in her right hand; in her left hand are riches and honor. Her ways are pleasant ways, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to those who take hold of her; those who hold her fast will be blessed. By Wisdom the Lord laid the earth’s foundations, by understanding he set the heavens in place.”

There is a whole wealth of knowledge about ancient Sumerian, Ugarit, Babylonian, Egyptian, Roman and even Hindu Goddesses, but the stories intermingle and specificity is rare. Many Goddesses were depicted with serpents and many others, lions. Asherah is associated with Ishtar, Astarte, Inanna, Anahita, Sekhmet, Libertas and even Durga, Supreme Mother Goddess of Hinduism. One thing is certain about the Biblical Asherah, however, and that is her banishment from Judaism and later, Christianity. Her name was  removed and replaced with “tree”  or “grove of trees,” and all semblance of Asherah worship, from altar pieces to “Asherah poles” were burned or banned. “Scratch the surface of the Bible stories just a little and you’ll find the serpent staff and the tree worship of Asherah under every green tree, but in official monotheistic doctrine the obvious meaning of these symbols is disavowed. And so we lost Asherah, the Wife of God, the Tree of Life, and the ability to access Divine Wisdom.” It’s time for the grand return of Asherah. We need Divine Wisdom like never before! Stay tuned, because it appears I haven’t begun to scratch the surface of what this is going to mean for me.

Libby Maxey is a Visionary Voyager into the "What If?, wife to her twin flame, minister, mother, nana, writer of books and blogs, transgender advocate and egalitarian. Her book titles I Am Liberty and One Becomes One are available on Amazon.com.

Asherah articles:  

1. Parts I, II and III of https://thequeenofheaven.wordpress.com/2010/10/27/asherah-part-i-the-lost-bride-of-yahweh/

 2. http://www.asphodel-long.com/html/asherah.html

3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asherah