A Task, Please?
The morning following the ritual, I did some quick research on Pele in an attempt to add more meaning to the conversations I expected to have today. Surely the encounter would last longer than a minute. In the same token, most of the next few days would involve being in and out of the car, with forays into parks and hikes, with little time left at the end of the day for ritual work. I was worried that driving all day would leave little mental focus for the evocation late in the evening.
I felt Abaddon’s presence in the room and opened myself up for communication while pretending to read on my device.
“Work with Madame Pele and learn about her Destructive current.” From here, I was given several subtasks that were personal, but had to do with harnessing this current for things in the past. Some of the procedures for these subtasks ended up being included later on in this grimoire for self-work.
Madame Pele rode with us for most of the day in one fashion or another. Conversations happened mainly in trickles, as I had to concentrate on the roadways, trails, and my family. What follows is a condensed version of the conversation over the next few days, with snippets thrown in that were copied down. At this point, I had no idea I would be working on a grimoire and no way of collecting the info privately.
“I don’t think anyone denies you’re a Fire and Volcano Goddess. Some tie you to other things, such as the lava, the magma, even the very acts of destruction themselves. Is there any clarification you can add to this?”
She gave an indication that there wasn’t much distinction between them, but didn’t say anything. Just a feeling.
“Madame, there are volcanoes all over the Earth. Do you have any sort of ‘dominion’ or authority over those areas, too, such as Iceland or Indonesia? Their magma comes from the same source, deep within the Earth.”
The impression I got was that I had asked a pointless question and felt like I got a stern look. I took that as a ‘No’. I was trying to establish some sort of boundary, maybe ascertain if there were other Gods or Goddesses for each. Maybe even establish whether some were facets of a singular Deity.
“The lore states that you’re considered to have come from Tahiti and that you sought refuge here, in Kilauea. Are you bound in some way to Hawaii Island? If not, why wasn’t this started on Oahu?”
I did see a flash of annoyance at this, but quite frankly, I wasn’t getting much in the way of answers with a lot of my questions. She gave me an impression that this was simply her home. When I asked about the supposed family disagreement that led to her residing here, she said nothing.
I was getting a lot of unanswered questions. Obviously, some of them were lead-ins to try to spur a conversation that would provide something useful. I had asked a lot of questions to try to get some sort of dialogue going, most of which weren’t worth remembering or asking. Some of the questions, such as “Madame Pele, could you please give me a hint at what I should be doing or asking while I am here on the Big Island with you?” or “Madame, I could really use some sort of direction to make sure I can try to complete these unknown tasks with the very short amount of time I have here on the island” would get an acknowledgment, but not a substantial reply.
I sat there at the restaurant for dinner in the fairly sleepy town of Volcano, Hawaii, having spent all day with Madame Pele as a companion, feeling as if I hadn’t really gotten anywhere. Five days and a wake up is not enough time to accomplish much of anything when the Madame isn’t tasking. Or really talking.
Admittedly, I couldn’t feel her there at dinner, which was a relief in a way. Yet, I also felt like it was a lost opportunity. I had scoured my brain (and the Internet, when available) to come up with questions to enhance the conversation and elicit what she was wanting to begin with. If she wanted some company, there are nine million visitors to Hawaii every year. Some of those continue to Hawaii Island. And a percentage of those should also be magically or mystically inclined. That isn’t even counting the locals that attempt to honor her in their own way.
While I trusted that Belial and Abaddon weren’t sending me on a completely useless pursuit, this wasn’t an effective use of my time. I have better ways of spending my attention and energy than flattering a Goddess that didn’t seem to want to say anything. I called out to Belial and Abaddon and asked if there was something I should’ve done or could do to change the situation. I got their attention, but silence. Very well.
At the end of the day, when everyone else had finally gone to bed, I once again evoked Madame Pele.
“Madame Pele, thank you for coming.”
The impression I got was a complicated combination of realizing I wasn’t exactly happy with her, of recognizing that I didn’t know what was going on, and her sympathy, while she also didn’t feel like any explanation was owed.
I don’t mind some deference to the Gods and Goddesses, as sort of respect for their position and what it may have taken to get there. I don’t mind a lesser, simpler explanation that suggests that there are things they shouldn’t spoil. I don’t mind being told I need to wait or be patient for something else to happen, so that it enables something that I need to learn – even if I don’t know what that is. But this takes communication in something other than silence.
“Madame Pele, I understand there are some tasks I’m supposed to do and I’ve been told to seek direction from you. I’ve been here for a few days now. I’m concerned with my remaining time.” I could feel a little anger in her. Almost like how a chameleon starts to change in one spot and it spreads to the rest of the area.
I don’t like pissing people off. I certainly don’t like pissing Goddesses or Gods off. People have to sleep. Goddesses and Gods don’t. I’d been told for a little while that I needed to start asserting my own inner Divinity, to exert my will in the face of Gods and Goddesses for a little while. This seemed like as good a time as any.
“Madame, I’ve tried to interact with you. I’ve tried asking questions from myth or lore to enable a useful conversation. You’ve ignored or gave me answers that you knew weren’t worth much. You haven’t shown me the respect you should have.”
“You approached me, Madame Pele. You could’ve approached me on Oahu, yet you didn’t. Instead, the choice was made to keep part of my mind occupied while I was on vacation with my family. This is your backyard, but this is MY Life.”
“You are welcome to travel with us as we continue our vacation here. If you want interaction, you will start giving it in return.”
I closed the ritual, banished the area, and went to bed...with reservations.
