[Lost] - A Man in Five Parts

[lslaw.livejournal.com]

A Man in Five Parts

Apparently, the Egyptians had this idea that a man - or a woman - was made up of five parts. Or eight, but let's go with five, because I think that one works; especially for me. The eight is fiddlier by far. They reckoned you had a body and a spirit, a soul, a shadow and a name, and that each of them was separate and yet a part of the whole. Five parts to make a man; five parts, each of which was nothing without the others.

The body, that was easy enough; the crude meat of the mortal coil in all its grisly glory. They called it the khet and it was, to them a vehicle for the other parts of the self. A machine, but a machine that lived and breathed and bled, that ate and drank and took part in all the gory, gruesome, earthy, wonderful beauty of the business of existence.

It was the part of you, as well, that died and got left behind, but that didn't mean it was done with; it just meant you had to make sure you got someone else to take care of it for you. Living or dead, that machine of meat and need was the seat and source of your existence and none of you could carry on if it were lost. I'm not sure I go along with that all the way, but I can get behind the importance of the body; not that that's likely to surprise anyone.

Then there's the spirit, the ka. The Egyptians saw that as a double of the body, a constant companion through life and death; a doppelgänger, if you will. It was also the brains of the outfit, the embodiment of the intellect and creative power. I guess that's more or less what you'd call the ego in a more modern mode, the thinking part of you, but it's an imprecise parallel. The ego is internal; the ka walked with you as a separate and equal being.

Next there was the soul, or to give it it's old name, the ba. This was the divine part of you, the part of the being that was ful of power and magic. In life, it dwelt within your breast, seated in your heart, burning with power and pusling with blood, but in sleep it could fly out in the shape of a bird, and in death it would go forth into the afterlife. It was your dream-self, the magical self. For you, I suppose that it's the part of us that attunes itself to the Wyrd, but it's also the higher self, the root of love and compassion and conscience. That strikes me as a good sign, frankly.

The fourth part is the shwt, the shadow. This was where you kept the baser emotions; not lust and hunger, necessarily, which were more of the body, but greed and cruelty and selfishness. The shwt itself wasn't evil, mind you. The Egyptians didn't have much truck with evil; something else I like about them. They had right and wrong, but those were denoted by harm, not some arbitrary morality. The shadow was all about the dark and secret side of the self, protecting the rest of the being from the burdens of shame that it carried. It was the dark side, but as vital and right as the rest.

Finally, there was the name; the ren. Well, this is something I understand the importance of, being a pledgesmith. Your name was your identity; it bounded and defined you, shielding you from the machinations and manipulations of the rest of the world. It goes deeper than just being a label of convenience and becomes the living definition of you. It holds power over you, but it's a power that protects you and tells you the shape of your being, without which you would be lost.

Body, spirit, soul, shadow and name. Khet, ka, ba, shwt and ren.

I have different names for them.

Gehenna is the name of my body, that's plain enough. I'm a simply enough creature in my way; all flesh and desire, strength and frailty. I don't pretend to be more than I am, but I don't make excuses for it. I'm a physical man, and there are much worse things to be.

Where this falls down a little, of course, is that my spirit is far from being a double of me, because that's Ciara; my wonderful, wise and beautiful cat. She is my constant and unwavering companion; through thick and thin she is with me, even when I do little to deserve her. She stalks my dreams and is never far from me, for we are one being, and I am her ka, flawed as I am, as she is mine.

My soul is called Älskling, because it is Maggie who shows it to me. It was her who woke that higher self in me; who made me want to be better and brought strength and light back to life in my heart. It was my heart, my Hjärta, who reforged the shattered pieces of my dream self. Without her, I would doubt my own worth a thousand times a day. She tells me, just by being here, that there is within me that which can be loved, and gives me cause to keep striving.

To my shadow I give the name Kit, for it is the part of me that I saw reflected in Venice. It's the part of me that hides and lies, that cows and craves, that hurt her in body and then in heart. I never meant her harm, she was never my shame and never my secret, but I was thoughtless and hurt her I did. I wanted more than I had and was reckless in my pursuit of it. Did she know, I wonder, what I asked of Hjärta? How it hurt her to agree to it? Did Venice know that I asked it only for her?

It doesn't matter. I hurt her with my folly and I shall bear the shame forever, bearing in my shadow the cruelty that she showed me I could display.

And my name, of course, is Christopher Starkadder, but I would never have troubled to reclaim it without Penny. It was because of her that I wanted to find the man I was before I was taken There and make him a part of me. Now, two of them women I love best have taken my name and I would never wish to be rid of it. It binds me to them with the power of a name and it assures me that I belong where I am.

Body, spirit, soul, shadow and name. Gehenna, Ciara, Älskling, Kit and Starkadder.

Five parts to make a man complete.

Comments

[annwfyn.livejournal.com]

I really really like this piece. Even if makes me sad in an odd way.