eva peron joins us for coffee

5 11 2009

Three of us like-minded ladies met for coffee at our local garden centre and were in full flow with happy banter when the theme tune from Evita suddenly entered my psche, completely irrelevant – it seemed – to what we had been discussing. “Don’t cry for me Argentina….” begged Evita… bringing tears of empathy to my eyeballs.   Thank heaven for toilet cubicles, as I said to the girls ‘I’ve got Eva Peron on the line – I’ll just pop out and help her…’ and pulled my chair back and toddled off to duties of another kind. 

I sat on the toilet seat lid whorling my dowser and tuning in to the tragic and waterlogged soul of Eva, whilst trying to block out the sound of a little one being taken to the toilet by his doting granny in the adjoining cubicle.  Such are the distractions of my work, but nevertheless the impression I gained from this desperate lady was that she was  buried alive beneath a tall dark tower, which loomed above her and contained very negative , masculine and suffocating energy, trapping her so that she was unable to speak her own voice.  There was so much emotion as she was pulled from her pit of darkness, shook her wet hair and rode the waves of love energy home again!

I returned to the girls, grinning with satisfaction that yet another soul had somehow woven her way into our powerful trio of   happiness and asked them if they knew anything about Eva Peron.  The only knowledge we could scrape up between us is that she was obviously from Argentina and that  Madonna has played her part in Evita…

Before checking Eva via the usual web I sat down at the next opportunity and invited her comments (As above, so below!)-

“Facism, extremism, sovereignty – all these accusations were thrown at me (by males) after my death!” she cried.  “I was buried in a deep chamber with no hope of ever seeing the light again.  Thank you dear sister and those who drew me to your likeness.   I am dripping wet with the struggle of humanity’s disdainful addresses towards feminine power and ideology.  I have come home!  I have set my place at God’s table, eaten the bread of my transgressions, taken off the sharp heels of my short life in which I deemed myself to be a saviour for the world of politics, darkness and debauchery of many kinds.  I have licked my wounds.  My soul has risen victoriously!…Open the door and let them have it!”  (…she encouraged me in my work!)

I set to on checking her out via the earthly web and found that she died at the tragically young age of 33 (1919-1952) from cancer (one of our trio had lost her sister from the same dreadful illness, also at a very tender age – could this be what attracted Eva to our triangle?)   I then found that Eva (real name Maria) – although the actress wife of Argentina’s President at the time  – was described as a ‘spiritual leader of the Nation of Argentina’ – Again, both myself and the third of us girls could be described as spiritual leaders in our own right,  holding regular spiritual development groups and the like…

After her body was preserved, fought over, obsessed over and hidden in bizarre places over many years she was finally ‘laid to rest’  in the Duarte vault in Recoleta Cemetery, Buenos aires. Is it relevant that this vault rests beneath layers of  steel and  and 7 metres of concrete? …”I was buried in a deep chamber with no hope of ever seeing the light again.”

There are many interesting websites explaining the tragic life and death of this suffrage who sought to close the gap between the rich and the poor and was worshipped by her country, but Eva’s own words resonated deeply with my own work and ethos – could this be why she joined us for coffee?

‘Even as a little girl I wanted to recite.  It was as though I wished to say something to others, something important which I felt in my deepest heart.” (La Razon de Mi Vida)

 

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