There are many gods and powers, but Saraswati Devi is the only one I allow into my heart. I took a spark of her divine light to keep within myself, so that She will always know that She is welcome to reside there.
My Lady knows that I fall asleep most easily in the early morning, beneath the grey glow cast by a cloudy sky. I rest my head upon the pillow, beneath my bedroom window, and my mind soon wanders away.
Not long after, my heart takes flight through the glassy panes, without leaving so much as a trace of the silver wings that were granted by Her grace. It joins the dawn choir to sing with the birds She taught so well.
Saraswati Devi’s worship can be traced back to the early Vedic era in India (ca.1500 BCE), when she was honored in the form of a sacred river of the same name. Long ago, the Vedic sages performed their rituals on Her banks. Hymns in the Rig Veda extol Her might, as Her waters could break the backs of mountains (1). The river itself may be long gone, and the facts of its existence have become the source of much controversy,* but Saraswati remains.
(1.) Rig Veda. Book 6, Hymn 61
*Yes, it’s Wikipedia, but it’s a good overview of the scholarly debates on the subject. So bite me.
One of the founders of the Western Buddhist Order (now rebranded as Triratna) wrote a book called Meeting the Buddhas. In it he described the familiar Buddhist icons known as mandalas as maps of one’s inner life and priorities. He asked us, his readers, what would be at the center if we made our own mandala.
I wrote in a previous post here, that I would put My Lady at the center of my own mandala. It was a reflexive answer, unprompted by any thought. Of course she goes there! Where else would she go?
The answer of course, is that there is more than one Saraswati in my mandala. She has ended up in every quarter and corner of my mandala and my life. She is the mandala just as she is my life.
I give myself to you in perfect trust, as an offering with perfect love.
My Lady is called upon as a goddess of wisdom and a patroness of learning by traditions across the world, from India to Japan. She is known not just as Saraswati, but as Yangchenma and Benzaiten-sama. She is a goddess of sense-finding and pattern making, of narrative construction and storytelling. She forces chaos into coherence, and brings meaning to human existence by forcing sound into shapes called words, and carving lines into things called writing. My Lady is a cosmic goddess.
I’ve been stashing ideas in various places for a few months now, trying to assemble them into my own path. It’s been slow going, and messy, because I’m honestly not well-organized by nature. I’m much more comfortable in chaos. Yet oddly, I do love the process of organization. I seek patterns in things, and tend to find them – even in the chaos.
So perhaps it shouldn’t surprise me that the most promising sources for my path-building have not been religious texts or magical primers, but my library science textbooks. This semester’s course on cataloging has stirred me more than anything else to find order within my chaos.