Nyx is a primordial Greek Goddess, or the personification of Night with her veil of stars. There are many works referencing her as the daughter of Chaos (the original darkness of creation), of being feared by even the mighty Zeus (1), and of giving birth to a multitude of beings without men (Euripides, Hesiod, Homer, & Vergil). She is said to reside in Tartarus in Theogony, and in other works is said to have been found as an oracle dwelling within a cave. This is deeply captivating and curious because she is a creatrix without men, residing in a place that is a deity and a place (remember Hel?). It leads me to believe that Nyx is not just night, she is the darkness, the nothingness from which all is created and spun – not the daughter of it. This same force lies within every person, the spark to ignite our own worlds of existence and ways of being by traversing and integrating the darkness.

Correspondences & Lineage

An Experience: Kaycee

The most powerful truths come out in the night,

when the distractions are few and the senses are high.

I have realized in building a conscious and intentional relationship with Nyx that the aspect I connect most with is the one behind her veil of stars, the one that happens without conscious thought. The part of her that is unseen with our human eyes but perceived of the soul in our richest of experiences in the night. It is truth. It is the experience of our soul sight that we cannot carry into the bright light and we cannot show to others in waking hours if only because we have been stripped of our collective ability to connect with it.

We are completely silenced unless our truth is “good”.

We are not to speak of our hurts.

We are not to speak of our pain.

We are not to speak of the past.

We are not to speak of the dark.

We are only to move forward, and we become deadened to her presence while the sun is shining.

We must be a collective of the society, a mirror of the culture, the same egregore that shushes us into obedience. The very same one that found a way to strip us of our gifts that came from Nyx, from the darkness we are born from.

Where have we seen this in our own lives? How has it taken shape in our connection with others and our own dreams?

I have seen the impact in my own circle of friends, carrying things so heavy that only come out when the sun has set, and the music has stopped. I have seen the impact around bonfires, another circle of folks, coming face to face with words they’ve never spoken aloud. I have seen the tears, felt the anguish, the fears, the shame, the guilt, the hopes no longer believed in, the dreams long released, the joy no longer fought for, a deadened existence just because the lungs are still drawing breath. I have seen daylight arrive and the facades thoroughly put back into place. How many of us have exposed our soul only to try to take it back into hiding the next day?

Still breathing does not mean living.

A Meeting Among the Stars

“On my own journey to Nyx, I was wandering through a thick forest. I was looking for the opening where I knew I would find Owl and the messages meant for me. I could barely see, it was so dark this time.  It felt like I was going in circles, I was touching the trunks of trees as I passed, recognizing the patterns in the Birch bark as a tree I had already passed. I stop. I breathe deeply. I close my eyes and put my palms out before I feel the message enter my mind “there you go, use your actual sight from within”. Upon opening my eyes, the largest owl was gliding silently down in front of me to prepare me for a flight among the stars.” From Owl: A Guardian of Mysteries

Having worked with Owl before, I thought for sure I was going to take flight and come face to face with Nyx in her grand chariot among the stars as described by Vergil in Aeneid (7). My back began to ache with the feeling of wings I have known so well, they want to be released but it shifts into itch. This itch is at my shoulder blades, and I cannot reach it.

Owl begins to wobble forward, flapping wings, as if to say, “come on”.

I follow. As we go forward, I notice that the darkness is fading and I am asking why I am witnessing Hemera and I am immediately falling into darkness, plunging quickly. I am trying to push my wings from under my skin to no avail and I hit the ground. Hard. I cannot move.

I hear hooves. It is dark. Then I see her, cloaked but sparkling, like a glittering shadow. She is mysterious and almost challenging, but not frightening. She holds out her hand, palm facing me, and it gets cold. I hear the popping and snapping of my own bones within my body. I feel no pain. In her other hand, she is holding a large piece of moonstone. As I get up, I hear her say:

I know you can fly, you have worked with the guardian for a year. You can see all your paths. You can see all the obstacles along each one. You can choose the path to take. However, they all have obstacles, and they are all the same. There is no way around them or over them because they are mirrors of the soul, and your wings will fail you until you face each one. They are yours to face. They are heavy. Your dreams amongst the stars require the understanding of the darkness you hide. You cannot soar when the darkness holds your wings hostage.

She holds out her hand of shadow holding the moonstone for me to take it. As I take it from her it glows brighter. Nyx’s veil slips entirely. Revealed is not a figure, not a woman, but a large mirror reflecting a moving image of me holding the still glowing moonstone with my maternal lineage standing behind me. In one moment, I am a 4-year-old little girl. In one moment, I am a teenager. In one moment, I am giving birth, in one moment I am screaming, in one moment I am grieving. Then, in one moment I am staring at a girl in front of me looking into the same mirror, holding the same moonstone, and I am her ancestor full of love urging her forward.

Nyx teaches us how to bring our truth to the light. How to navigate the dark nights of the soul. Those moments that have imprinted upon us in ways that leave us choosing whether to be “still breathing” or to reimagine our dreams by transcending, transforming, and transmuting those things that clipped our wings into our unending sources of power.

A Candle & a Key,
Kaycee

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References

1. Hesiod. The Homeric Hymns and Homerica with an English Translation by Hugh G. Evelyn-White. Theogony. Cambridge, MA.,Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd. 1914. https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Hes.+Th.+744
2. NASA. 23 June, 2006. https://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/hubble/plutos_moons.html
3. NASA. 19 December, 2019. https://solarsystem.nasa.gov/moons/pluto-moons/nix/in-depth/
4. Vergil. Aeneid. Theodore C. Williams. trans. Boston. Houghton Mifflin Co. 1910. https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus:abo:phi,0690,003:7:339
5. Hesiod. The Homeric Hymns and Homerica with an English Translation by Hugh G. Evelyn-White. Theogony. Cambridge, MA.,Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd. 1914. https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Hes.+Th.+212
6. Numerology of Ancient Myths. http://www.numeralgame.64g.ru/num/num6en.htm
7. Vergil. Aeneid. Theodore C. Williams. trans. Boston. Houghton Mifflin Co. 1910. https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Verg.%20A.%205.721&lang=original