The Day River and Serpent Danced Again by Sarah Asia

Inspired by a Trancework Journey during which I witnessed the following exchange and integration between Osun and Lilith.

I’m floating here in this in-between state of my Heart Space and my bedroom. 

I can hear my partner’s voice guiding me deeply, and then more deeply, into Trance and the bliss of this space.

But today is not so blissful, as my partner has called in Osun and Lilith, and he prompts me to enter a scene with them yelling back and forth at each other in passionate rage. 

He invites me to listen for what they’re arguing about.

Osun seems to be explaining to Lilith that she doesn’t understand the consequences of her actions and she’s telling her she must learn to control herself.

Lilith yells back half the time, shrugs her off the other half. Mostly she’s exclaiming that she doesn’t get what the big deal is, what her sister is so uptight about. She did it cuz it felt good and she wanted to. That’s it. What’s so wrong with that? She went on to defend, He liked it, too. I could tell! So what harm is done?

Osun tried to explain about the man’s wife and children, his eldest about her age, but Lilith didn’t care much, didn’t want to hear it. She explained that when she feels the tingle, she follows it, and it feels so fucking good, it could not possibly be wrong. 

She insisted her elder sister was jealous, that she wished she could be so free and in her feels. She yelled at Osun, you’re just mad because you want to do what I do but you’re too uptight and worried about everyone else all the time!

At this, I heard my partner’s voice intercede from the physical dimension. He posed his first question to Osun. “Osun,” he said, “why do you think Lilith can’t see the consequences of her actions?”

Because she doesn’t want to, Osun said with more anger than she wanted to reveal. She never has to clean up the mess. She just does whatever she wants and then I’m there to pick up the pieces.

Just let it fuckin be, Sister! You don’t have to go around apologizing for me. Just let it be! What’s so wrong if everything just happens as it does? Nobody’s asking you to clean up for me! Lilith raged, begging at the same time.

Again the voice from the physical realm interjects, “Osun, why do you feel it’s your responsibility to clean up after your little sister’s messes?” 

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Because she can’t help it. And it’s my fault. It’s my fault I let her out of my sight and allowed her to be taken and mutilated. I dropped my guard. I failed her . . . and everyone as a result – everyone she hurts again and again. I weep for them all and for all of us, Osun poured out in sobs. 

The voice from above asks, “Lilith, what do you feel about what your sister just shared?” 

It’s such bullshit. What happened happened and it’s not the end of the world or the all of me. It’s also not her fault. She’s just measuring me up against this bullshit meter that I wish I could just fuckin blow up! Lilith turned to her sister now. I’m more than what they did to me, Sister, and if you would chill the fuck out for two seconds, you may see that. You want me to be just like you and I’m not! Why can’t I just be me and do whatever the fuck I want?

Feeling the tension climax, my partner’s voice prompts, “Lilith. Can you think of something you have in common with your sister, something you both enjoy or something that connects you both? 

After a long pause, but with a smile on her face, Lilith replied cooly, I don’t want to give her the satisfaction.

“Well what about just one thing. Can you do that for your sister, please?” 

Hesitantly she surrenders, Magic. Dancing. 

“Ah yes, Osun, what do you think about that and what do you feel you have in common with your sister?” 

Oh, so much. I do so love magic and dance. When I think about it, it makes me remember when Lilith and I used to dance together . . . before . . . We had so much fun, invoking Goddess, learning the rites, dancing the rituals together. I was teaching her everything I know . . . when they came . . . she was so young and innocent then, so tender and full of buzzing joy and excitement over everything. She was a true priestess and was going to be an exquisite Avatar. Both sisters were gazing out at an unknown distant point in timespace now.

“When is the last time you two danced?” the voice asked.

Not since . . .  Osun turned to her sister. I’m so sorry for what happened to you, sister. I’m so so so sorry. I don’t know how to help you, I don’t know how to protect you. I don’t know how to make you whole again. 

“Osun, do you really think Lilith needs your protection? Or do you think she can protect herself?” 

I think we need protection from Lilith! And yes, Lilith needs protection even from herself I feel at times. She is not wrong, not bad, but not directed. She wields without constraint or refinement in technique. She just goes about stirring up drama and pain, all for the thrill, the sensation of it . . . She was supposed to learn The Rites but we were interrupted. I was supposed to teach her . . .

“So what’s stopping you now?” 

Osun pondered for a time. Then a smile grew across her face as she saw how easily she could help her sister direct her powerful and magical energy, this energy that could char its victim in seconds or allow her partner to taste divinity for a brief eternity or two. 

She would pick up the lessons right where they left off. Why not?! Dancing. Moving Goddess through their cells in all the juiciest and most provocative ways to carry on the magical feminine healing arts . . . as well as knowing when to wield this – the original alchemy – and who is worthy of drinking it in. We will remember by dancing together again. 

MORAL OF THE STORY: We are wired with this beaming, teeming sexual passion energy within us and it is our design to wield it! However, wielding our sexuality is like playing with fire, and we must understand The Rites, the dangers, and the impact of the energy we express and absorb. This is as much for our safety as it is for others’ safety, and it is a cornerstone of compassionate priestesshood. 

As we remember the womanly arts, we can relearn how to wield our sexuality in magical ways which nourish ourselves and our playmates . . . because sex can burn us or it can set us aflame to soar winged like the angels. 


Journey facilitated by Nathan Amthor of Akashic Trancework
Channeled and translated to text by Astara Solae of Laughing Goddess
Inspired by work in Recalling the Blood Rites


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