May we celebrate the blessings
Of the year just passed
And not forget the giver.
Now let us contemplate the road ahead
With love in our hearts
and our hand in yours.
Another year, another journey. Last year we embarked on a pilgrimage to sacred places, ending at Uluru. This year we are going walkabout into the heart of the history of our land through the mystery of myths of the time before time–the Dreaming (Alcheringa).
Yhi Brings Light to the World
In the beginning the world lay quiet in utter darkness. There was no living or moving thing, no wind, no sound, to break the silence. The world was asleep, waiting for the soft touch of life and light. Yhi, the Sun Spirit, stirred in her sleep, waiting for the whisper of Biamee, the Great Spirit, to come to her.
Then the whisper came that woke the world. Sleep fell away from Yhi, her eyes opened and the darkness was dispelled by their shining. There were coruscations of light in her body. The endless night fled. Earth was bathed in radiance.
Yhi floated down to earth and began a pilgrimage. Where her feet rested on the ground, the earth bounded in ecstasy. Grass, shrubs, trees, and flowers sprang up. Yhi's radiant light crossed and recrossed until the whole earth was clothed in vegetation.
Her first task completed, Yhi rested. Then Biamee said, ‘But the work of creation has only just begun; the world is full of beauty but it needs the dance of life to fulfil its destiny’. Yhi rose, making her way into the gloomy places beneath the surface. There were no seeds there to come to life at her touch; dark shadows lurked behind the light. Evil spirits shouted, ‘No, no, no’, until the caverns vibrated with voices that echoed in the darkness. The shadows softened, twinkling points of light sparkled, then dim forms stirred restlessly.
‘Sleep, sleep’, the evil spirits wailed, but the shapes had been waiting a long time for Yhi's warmth. Soon she was surrounded by myriads of insects, creeping out into the world to work and play.
‘Caves in the mountains, the eternal ice’, whispered Biamee. Yhi sped to the hills, shining on the snow, into caverns chilled from the ice that lay hard and unyielding, then on to the frozen lakes. Light is a hard thing, and a gentle thing. It can be fierce, relentless and penetrating, it can be warm and soothing.
Icicles dripped clear water. Ice floated to the surface and lost its identity. It rejoiced in the release of the imprisoned water, death changed to life. Vague shapes wavered and swam to the top, resolving into fish, snakes, reptiles. Lakes overflowed, leaped through the caves, rushed down the mountains, giving water to thirsty plants, then sought distant seas.
‘There are yet more caves in the mountains’, whispered Biamee. Yhi went into cave after cave and was met by a torrent of life–feather, fur and naked skin. Birds and animals gathered round her, drinking in a world of light, colour, sound and movement. Biamee said, ‘It is good to see my world so alive’. Then Yhi took his hand and said to all the things she had brought to life. ‘This is the land of Biame, yours to enjoy for ever. He will care for you and listen to you always.
‘Now I am going to send you the seasons–summer for warmth to ripen all your food, winter for sleeping, while the cold winds of autumn clean the land , making it ready for spring, the season of new life.’
‘I am leaving you now, to live far away in the sky. When you die your bodies will stay here on earth, but your spirits will come to live with me’. Yhi then rose and dwindled into a golden ball of light in the sky, then slowly sank into the west.
All the living creatures grieved with fear and sorrow as darkness entered once more into the world. Weary with grief, all now slept. Long hours passed, then, hearing the twittering of birds, they awoke and saw with joy that Yhi had returned, flooding the world with her glorious morning light. All now knew that day would always follow night.
The spirit of the rivers and lakes grieve mostly when Yhi sinks to rest. They miss the warmth and light and strive with all their might to reach her in the sky. When Yhi smiles on them they dissolve into drops of water falling down as rain and dew to freshen all the earth.
One last deed remained. Yhi sent Morning Star to herald her each day, but feeling sorry for the star in her loneliness, she gave her Bahloo, the Moon, for her husband. All the earth sighed with pleasure as Moon in her beauty moved majestically across the sky, giving birth to myriads of stars, making a new glory in the heavens.
This Aboriginal myth reveals the sublime awesomeness of the Creator and is charged with the sacred wonder and significance in which they hold his creation. We all have the responsibility to care for this beautiful earth.
(Adapted from Tales from the Dreamtime, A. W. Reed, New Holland, Australia, 1999.)
