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The Sacrifice Of Oshun

Feel her pain.

By Jayden Sweeten 👑Published 3 years ago • Updated 3 years ago • 6 min read
2

This was the second time I walked by the box, only today it looked soft and damp from the storm last night. The middle of the box slightly dipped inward, revealing just a small point of whatever lay inside. This time as I passed the box, I was curious.

"Hold on boy" I motioned for my dog Zeus to stop. The power of his thick wagging fur tail sent a flurry of multi-colored leaves into the air around us. He leaned forward, noticing the box, and began to sniff it. I knelt into the earth and quickly snagged it, tucking it under my arm inside my coat, but I shivered as the sound of whatever was inside shifted from one side to the other. We continue our hike through the uncharted terrain behind my newly renovated apartment complex and every time the weight shifts inside the box, I push away the thought that there could be something creepy inside.

A severed hand, a bloody ear, or any body part really, were among the unwanted ideas that floated through my brain the closer I got to my floor. And I guess I owe that aspect of my imagination to the thriller movies I loved so much as a child. However, nothing prepared me for the beautiful, beautiful statue that lay inside the box, neatly tucked into a burgundy velvet drawstring bag. It was the exact color of red velvet cake. The bag, just like the box bore no markings or labels. Neither did the statue or so I thought until right there on the bottom of the feet, was one word, one name. "Oshun.".

I remembered vaguely learning about Oshun while I was in college. When I first became interested in spirituality she was one of the deities the spiritual practitioner I knew then claimed she worked very closely with. Oshun was one of the many Orishas and one of the seven most powerful. A Goddess of love, fertility, water, and beauty. I felt like there might be more that I should know about her but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. The statue depicted her as she showed in most replications. Her coffee bean colored skin glowed against the gold that embroidered almost every part of her curvaceous body. Her stomach and feet were bare and in her hand, she held a small mirror. On her head sat a crown with the designs of peacock feathers where jewels should be.

"Wow," I whispered, "how did anyone let this go?". Thinking that I must've been talking to him, a tired and stretching Zeus leaves his plush bed to come stand next to me. With Oshun still in one hand, I reach down to stroke Zeus's golden-brown coat and then,

"Zeus, Oshun," I introduce them, leaning down to put the statue closer to his face, "Oshun, Zeus.". He gives it a quick sniff before he turns and walks away rather unimpressed. But then again most things I'd introduced to him that were this size, he could rip and tear apart until they were hollow. There was no breaking this, she was solid and she wasn't a toy. I chuckle as Zeus finds one of his stuffed victims and begins tossing it around. I place Oshun on the counter and get ready for bed.

That night I dreamt about being in a thunderstorm. The wind whipped my curly hair around in every direction and the rain made it stick. Strangely the sun still showed and its heat was still felt. It was void of sound except for those of the storm and the crunch of the leaves beneath my feet as I pushed against the strong winds, heading North. I trudged past infinite rows of trees, obviously in some type of forest. I walked for what felt like hours before finally reaching a small clearing. Somehow this clearing was untouched by the storm. The trees lining the perimeter still swayed harshly in the wind and the thunder still boomed above them. But the clearing was quiet, even dry.

As I made my way to the middle, the square shape of a box caught my attention. The closer I got to it, the more I couldn't help but realize how similar it looked to the box I found the Oshun statue in. I knelt into the earth, the same way I had when I retrieved the box from the ground earlier in the day. Only this time I opened it right there. Just as I started to pull the statue from that same red velvet bag, the storm began in the clearing. As soon as the rain touched the statue, it began to glow as if the water was charging it. I stared in awe, slowly entering a trance-like state. The sound of rhythmic African drums filled my ears. I wanted to turn my head and look around for the source of the music but I couldn't. I was stuck, staring at the statue and swaying my body side to side to the beat of the drums. It felt as if the entire storm danced with me. Danced with us.

A power that I've never felt before, neither in the dream state nor in real life, surged through my body before I started to levitate upward. I was going higher and higher and although I wanted to panic, I couldn't. All I could do was stare at the glowing statue in my hand whose soft smile seemed to begin to morph into a rather satisfied grin. As I rose above the storm, I started to feel the heat of the sun tenfold. It was beginning to become unbearable.

Then I remembered what I couldn't remember before. Oshun had once turned herself into a peacock to reach the Heavens. She was so determined to reach the Heavens, that she suffered through the burns from the sun the higher she went and lost all of her beauty as a result. I was feeling now what I assumed she had felt. Agony, as harsh rays of light, melted away parts of my flesh. But still, I remain stuck, transfixed by the glow of the statue. As if simply being able to witness this beauty made the excruciating pain worth it. I stared into the eyes of Oshun, understanding her now more than I did before. This is how she felt as she ascended into the heavens. Transfixed on her mission, and probably so taken away by the beauty of the Heavens, that she just kept going.

When I woke up, I understood not only why Oshun was one of the most powerful Orishas but why the person before me had left the box for someone else to find. I walked into my kitchen, picked the statue up off of the counter, and gently put her back into the velvet drawstring bag, pulling the strings so tight her figure showed through the fabric.

Where was I going to leave the statue?

spirituality
2

About the Creator

Jayden Sweeten 👑

Healing, inspiring, creative, and motivating

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