The Luminous White Pig: A Myth© Chapter 1
The Speckled Sow & Moonbeam©
Prologue:
My favorite place to linger is in that liminal space between sleeping and waking. I cherish this inbetween of magic and wonder. Many ‘ah ha’ moments of clarity emerge in that thin veiled place. I’ve come to trust it. Wait for it with open heart. Spiritual truths rise to the surface like rich cream.
I’ve written my dreams down in my dream journal for many years. Most days, I remember them upon waking. Sometimes, though, they are fuzzy, illusive and hard to hold onto like trying to grasp water in my hands. Other times they feel potent, vivid and are seared upon my psyche. This one appeared around 2018. As I sat with it; it simply fleshed itself out, almost writing itself into the following myth…
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Chapter 1: The Speckled Sow & Moonbeam
The sow lay large and heavy upon the tender earth, hollowing out a curved place as she gently rocked back and forth with each labored birthing breath. The Pig Farmer impatiently hovered nearby, watching, waiting expectantly.
The village Shaman had told him that by mating this speckled sow with his prize inky, black boar; he would surely earn a handsome, healthy litter. And so he had tried to breed them right away, only the sow had been reluctant, biting the boar, pawing at the ground and running away.
Finally, in disgust the farmer tied the sow using four ropes. One around each of her legs, he secured the other ends to four palm trunks growing in the four corners of a clearing on his land. Each palm, in each corner grew in each of the four directions: North, South, East and West.
Even then the sow sat her butt down every time the boar advanced to mount her. Eventually, the Pig Farmer tied a noose around the sow’s neck in such a way that if she tried to sit, the rope would pull taunt cutting off her breath. With this threat, the sow finally succumbed to the boar’s brutish mounting. She squealed in such agony that the Pig Farmer could not sleep that night haunted by her screams.
Now, as the time of birthing had arrived, the farmer watched, two tiny, white-hoofed feet protrude from the Speckled Sow’s birth canal; while she heaved and grunted. With her next breath, the entire body of a tiny white piglet slipped out. It was a runt gilt. Disappointment spread across the Pig Farmer’s face.
The Speckled Momma Sow scooted her body around to lick her little one and seemed to sigh with relief as she heard it squeak. The farmer was perplexed. Where were the other piglets? Surely more were to be born. He waited in vain. This was the only piglet in her litter.
Raging, the farmer stalked off to grab his gun and kill the worthless sow and her piglet. Yelling at the sky about the cheating Shaman and his lying ways, as he went. When he returned, gun in hand, he froze at the sight of the piglet, now luminous white suckling vigorously at the sow’s teet. He could not say for sure what it was, but there was something unearthly about that piglet. He watched them for a time, barely daring to breathe. Finally he turned away leaving them be. He never regretted his decision to let them live.
Shortly after the Luminous White Piglet’s birth, the farmer met a beautiful village woman. They soon married and she bore him five sons. Everything the farmer did or touched or endeavored to do prospered. He built a large sprawling home on his land. His garden was continually bursting with taro, potato and poi. Coconuts, bananas and mangos grew in abundance around his home. The river that ran across the southern edge of his land teemed with fish. His other pigs were consistently pregnant, giving birth to strong healthy piglets. His boys grew in strength and intellect and his wife loved him in a way he knew he did not deserve. All of this, he claimed, came upon him because of the Luminous White Pig.
The runt grew until she reached 15 pounds and there she stopped. Her white skin never changed. It seemed to glow like the full moon in the night sky and never dirtied even after rolling in the mud. Her temperament was sweet and direct and the young sons of the Pig Farmer cherished her, calling her Moonbeam. She ran alongside them as they explored the jungle around them, swam in the river beside them, diving, frolicking and squealing with delight just as they did. She was their truest companion and never did any harm come upon them when she was with them.
Long into the flowing of years, the Pig Farmer was troubled by the Speckled Sow’s anguished squeals the day he forced her breeding, thus he never bred her again. He let her be, content and happy. He offered her the choicest slop portions. She roamed free until she grew too old to walk. One day, as she slept, death took her. Moonbeam grieved deeply.
The boys sat beside her tempting her with sweet treats, stroking her silky white skin, begging her to adventure with them. She welcomed their touch but refused to eat or venture out. Her luminousness never lessened even though her spirit sank and at times the family thought she was glowing brighter than ever. She seemed to know the sacrifice her speckled sow mother had given her. She knew to honor her. After a time, when she was complete, she stood up and joined once again in the boy’s play.
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Chapter 2: The Wandering Couple will be posted on October 23rd.
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