A new Mythic Story, to bring hope & guidance

The world has changed so drastically in the past month, in very shocking and painful ways. I am still reeling from the magnitude of it, and the constant onslaught of fear, hatred, anxiety, depression, and pain within the States (It feels a bit disingenuous to call them "United States", because we are far from it...).

During the Soul Retrieval training last month, a student was gifted with an amazing story. A newly-formed myth, from beginning to end, came through in a Journey for him. It was incredible to witness, and reminded me of the importance of doing Sacred Work, and training others to be healers.

It will soon be part of a fantastic book, but here is the Myth (reproduced here with permission). I hope that it brings all readers a sense of wonder, magic, and healing in these dark times.

(from Public Domain)
The Hag Who Stole the Starlight
By Zac Lawhon (c) 2016 (all rights remain with him, DO NOT re-post without attribution!)

The water and the stars have loved each other for eons. This is why the stars are reflected on the water’s surface: the water reflects the light back up to the stars, so they can see the water dancing with them all night. In this way, the stars know their love, beamed down from the heavens, has been received.
Now, near the water is a forest, and living inside the forest there is a hag. Her skin is gray, she is hunched over, her eyes jaundiced on her walks along the side of the bay. Night after night, she has coveted the glittering reflections of the stars written on the water, noting that her own home was very dark. At long last, she discovered a secret. If she cupped her hand just a certain way, she could pull the starlight directly off the water’s surface. Night after night, she would go out in her boat and fish a few more from the bay, taking just a few in her pockets back to her home, until finally there were no more star reflections dancing on the water.
The night the last star was taken from the water, the fish bumbled into one another for a conference. “We have watched the Forest Hag take stars from the surface of the water for ages! Night after night, it’s gotten darker in here. It’s no longer safe for us to get home. We cannot dance in the water columns after the sun sets. We are more vulnerable to becoming prey.” They decided to send Mudskipper to her front door, to deliver their grievances.
Up Mudskipper sloshed, all the way to her door, where he tried to knock. Now, a fish knocking is a funny thing. You can imagine Mudskipper, wriggling his body close, and with his whole upper half— “fwap, fwap, fwap.” It was a small sound, but she opened the door. She had decorated all her walls with the starlight, the flowers and whorls glowing all around her, bathing her in shadow.
Intimidated though he was, Mudkip brought the Fish Nation’s grievances to the Forest Hag. Looking down with a sneer, she said to him, “now, I eat fish like you. What in the world makes you think I care for your tiny problems?” She slammed the door, refusing to listen to any more.
Now, around this time, the stars had noted that it had been ages since they had seen their light dancing upon the water. They wondered why she had stopped caring. Polaris, her main lover, came down from the sky to have a talk. “Water! Why have you stopped our dance? We miss you, we love you!” she said.
Water, feeling very lethargic and sad, responded. “The Forest Hag has stolen all the starlight. I have no more to make dance upon my waters. She took one, and then another— and I thought it was okay, I felt so bad for her. But now she has taken it all for herself.”
Polaris went to the Forest Hag’s house, and knocked on her door. The Forest Hag opened it, and Polaris saw that her beautiful walls were flickering in some places, and dimming in others. She said, “Forest Hag! Please return this starlight to the water. She has grown so depressed without it, and my family in the sky are worried she doesn’t love us anymore.”
The Forest Hag felt a pang of guilt looking on Polaris. But her home had been beautified so nicely by the starlight. “I feel the Star Nation’s pain,” she said, “I feel water’s pain. But I have worked too hard, way too hard, to give this back up. I have gathered this starlight all by myself, and I will keep it. That’s just the way it will be.” Forest Hag shut the door on Polaris. Polaris headed back to Water. “Water! She will not give it back! Will you please go talk to her and tell her of your pain?”
Water did not respond, but simply lapped against the shore. Polaris was heartbroken to be ignored. Upon returning to the star nation, she retold this tale, and one by one the stars went out, feeling the grief of having been ignored by one they loved so much.
It was at this point that Water reached desperately up to the sky. She formed herself into a cloud, but she couldn’t reach up to meet her lovers in the sky. She wasn’t close enough. She began to cry, and this is how rain was first created.
As she cried, Water began to rise. She rose all the way to the front door of the Forest Hag’s house, and there she knocked. Inside, the Forest Hag’s beautiful light display was flickering on and off, and weaker than it had ever been. She saw Water knocking, but this time, she was too afraid to answer. But water didn’t care.
Through every crack, she entered the home, gathering in pools around the Forest Hag’s feet. Her touch was gentle, and the scene was beautiful in the dim light. Some of the lights began to dance on the water’s surface again.
Looking down— there was nowhere else to look— the Forest Hag saw her reflection in the water as well. And she remembered that before she had taken the stars and sequestered herself inside the home, when she used to walk along the shore, Water would reflect her image back up to her, showing her the same love she had shown the stars. There was a time, before she became so envious of their relationship that she loved the water and the water loved her.
At this realization, the Forest Hag shattered into countless, glittering pieces, and all the light faded from her walls. The particles of her landed on the water, where they began to glow. Outside, it stopped raining, and Water began the trek back to her shores, starlight dancing on her waves once again.
As Water receded from the home, the form of a woman was left. Her skin was a ruddy, beautiful brown, her eyes were clear. A glow seemed to emanate from her heart as she stood up and went to her window. Now every evening since, The Forest Hag strolls along the shoreline of her bay, marveling as her reflection dances with the starlight and the waves.

We thank the Spirits for this story of Soul Theft and Remediation, and the reminder that when many have lost hope, healing can still be found!


  1. What a sobering yet joy-infused experience it is for me to tap out this comment using one finger typing on a smartphone.

    Read this woman's words. If you are smart you'll also find her voice somewhere so you can sit still while your being is washed by the flow of her words. And to top off your Healing find a way to see her dynamic physical form and gaze at the way her inner self inhabits her highly fit human body.

    If you can join us at an IPA event you may be able to be in the room where she shows what Healing Coyote is all about. She may teach at one coming up.

    In my experience she is the Femme that allows the Homme to know his deeper self. Check her out. It'll change your life.

    [This observation is true and unsolicited. Signed Walks-Between-Worlds from the Hawaiian Islands www.IslandNaturalPsychotherapy.org ]


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