The Witch of Portobello

And now I was standing before an apparently exhausted woman.

"Make me some tea."

She was giving me an order! And she was no longer universal wisdom but merely someone my boyfriend was interested in or infatuated with. Where would this relationship take us?

But making a cup of tea wouldn't destroy my self-esteem. I went into the kitchen, boiled some water, added a few chamomile leaves, and returned to the living room. The child was asleep on her lap.

"You don't like me," she said.

I made no reply.

"I don't like you either," she went on. "You're pretty and elegant, a fine actress, and have a degree of culture and education which I, despite my family's wishes, do not. But you're also insecure, arrogant, and suspicious. As Hagia Sofia said, you are two, when you could be one."

"I didn't know you remembered what you said during the trance, because in that case, you are two people as well: Athena and Hagia Sofia."

"I may have two names, but I am only one--or else all the people in the world. And that is precisely what I want to talk about. Because I am one and everyone, the spark that emerges when I go into a trance gives me very precise instructions. I remain semiconscious throughout, of course, but I'm saying things that come from some unknown part of myself, as if I were suckling on the breast of the Mother, drinking the milk that flows through all our souls and carries knowledge around the earth. Last week, which was the first time I entered into contact with this new form, I received what seemed to me to be an absurd message: that I should teach you."

She paused.

"Obviously, this struck me as quite mad, because I don't like you at all."

She paused again, for longer this time.

"Today, though, the source repeated the same message, and so I'm giving you that choice."

"Why do you call it Hagia Sofia?"

"That was my idea. It's the name of a really beautiful mosque I saw in a book. You could, if you like, be my student. That's what brought you here on that first day. This whole new stage in my life, including the discovery of Hagia Sofia inside me, only happened because one day you came through that door and said: 'I work in the theater and we're putting on a play about the female face of God. I heard from a journalist friend that you've spent time in the Balkan mountains with some gypsies and would be prepared to tell me about your experiences there.'"

"Are you going to teach me everything you know?"

"No, everything I don't know. I'll learn through being in contact with you, as I said the first time we met, and as I say again now. Once I've learned what I need to learn, we'll go our separate ways."

"Can you teach someone you dislike?"

"I can love and respect someone I dislike. On the two occasions when I went into a trance, I saw your aura, and it was the most highly developed aura I've ever seen. You could make a difference in this world, if you accept my proposal."

"Will you teach me to see auras?"

"Until it happened to me the first time, I myself didn't know I was capable of doing so. If you're on the right path, you'll learn too."

I realized then that I too was capable of loving someone I disliked. I said yes.

"Then let us transform that acceptance into a ritual. A ritual throws us into an unknown world, but we know that we cannot treat the things of that world lightly. It isn't enough to say yes, you must put your life at risk, and without giving it much thought either. If you're the woman I think you are, you won't say: 'I need to think about it.' You'll say--"

"I'm ready. Let's move on to the ritual. Where did you learn the ritual, by the way?"

"I'm going to learn it now. I no longer need to remove myself from my normal rhythm in order to enter into contact with the spark from the Mother, because once that spark is installed inside you, it's easy to find again. I know which door I need to open, even though it's concealed among many other entrances and exits. All I need is a little silence."

Silence again!

We sat there, our eyes wide and staring, as if we were about to begin a fight to the death. Rituals! Before I even rang the bell of Athena's apartment for the first time, I had already taken part in various rituals, only to feel used and diminished afterward, standing outside a door I could see, but not open. Rituals!

All Athena did was drink a little of the tea I prepared for her.

"The ritual is over. I asked you to do something for me. You did, and I accepted it. Now it is your turn to ask me something."

I immediately thought of Heron, but it wasn't the right moment to talk about him.