So I’m getting a massage from my favorite massage person, Judy, last week, and her psychic lightbulb turns on – as it often does.
‘Who’s Diana?’ she asks. The Roman goddess of the hunt and of the moon, I say. ‘What’s your snake’s name?’ Crionna, I respond – the Celtic word for wisdom, discovered with much difficulty and googling.
‘She wants to be called Diana’, says Judy. I have a good friend named Diane, I say, knowing Diane will not be happy sharing her name. Judy works silently for a moment, then says ‘What about Artemis? Who is she?’
I have studied Goddess lore, shelves of it. The answer is easy: the Greek version of Diana, I reply. This is not information Judy had.
This snake, my second corn snake, is a problematic sort of friend. My first, Hekima (Swahili for wisdom), and I had a close bond. We knew each other’s moods. You have never been glared at ’til you’ve been glared at by Hekima, when I just wasn’t understanding what she was trying to tell me.
Crionna / Artemis and I were friends when she was small. Then she disappeared from her terrarium, reappearing 6 months to the day later, on the lower level at the other end of the house. I think she still hasn’t forgiven me for not tearing up the furnace ductwork to find her.
So, okay, Artemis – let’s start this relationship all over again. And I’ll keep the rest of you posted!