Whatever your ancestry, wherever your people had deep roots, winter was the time for storytelling. To gather together inside, stay warm, relax, and learn together.
Winter stories in particular, are stories about the mysteries that bind our earthly world to the other worlds. Stories about the bridges between the visible and the invisible. Stories of the uncanny.
They are myths about the beginning times, when everything came into being and found its rightful place. Stories of the mythic times that bear on today. Raven is one of these mysteries who has been with us from the very beginning of our storied existence.
In this episode, I tell a couple of Haida stories about Raven based on material collected by Robert Bringhurst. Raven is often associated with winter and the winter solstice in the northern hemisphere. Raven teaches us how to go into the dark to bring forth the light.
Tranacript of A Winter Story: Raven Steals the Light
Hello, and welcome to Myth Matters, storytelling and conversation about mythology and what myth can offer us today. I’m your host and personal mythologist Dr. Catherine Svehla. Wherever you may be in this wide, beautiful, crazy world of ours, you are part of this story circle.
In November of 1987, my friend Anne and I drove cross country from Boston, where we were living, to the west coast. We made a detour to stop at the Grand Canyon. November was cold. A scattering of snowflakes fell. We pulled into one of the overlooks on the south rim and we were the only humans there.
After a few minutes, we had the weird feeling that we were being watched. When we turned around, there was a huge, I mean 2 foot tall at least, huge, raven was looking at us. The bird was about 15 feet away. At first we thought it was pretty interesting. Kind of cute, you know, maybe it thought we had food. But the bird called out a couple of times and a few more huge ravens appeared out of nowhere. The group was definitely gathered on our behalf and it quickly felt really strange. We got in our car and drove away, amazed and a little bit intimidated. Ravens have power. There was/is no question about that.
So, today I want to tell you a couple of stories about Raven. These are good stories for this time of year. Whatever your ancestry, wherever your people had deep roots, winter was the time for storytelling. To gather together inside, stay warm, relax and learn together. Winter stories in particular, are stories about the mysteries that bind our earthly world to the other worlds. Stories about the bridges between the visible and the invisible. Stories of the uncanny. They are myths about the beginning times, when everything came into being and found its rightful place. Stories of the mythic times that bear on today. Raven is one of these mysteries who has been with us from the very beginning of our storied existence.
Mythologists and others who study culture call Raven a “trickster.” These characters are found in mythologies around the world and they are often animals. Coyote is another one who roams around my part of the world. Each is a bit different and yet it’s fair to say that most tricksters like raven, are our benefactors in one way or another. They were created in the very early days of world. They often helped with the creation of the world or were charged with making it hospitable for human beings. Sometimes they create humans. They always teach us.
Animals taught us how to survive in a range of environments and they still do. We defined ourselves, developed our ideas about what is human and what that means, in relation to them. We still do. And we are evolving together. If you know anything about ravens then it’s obvious why they would be tricksters and teachers and powers in the dynamic world as we imagine it.
Raven is called the genius of the bird world, and as we learn more and more about them– or maybe it’s more accurate to say as we relearn and remember what we know about them and what they have told us— we may soon say ravens are geniuses in the world, period.
Ravens are clever and adaptable. Ravens make and use tools. They have amazing vocalization skills, clearly a form of creative speech. Ravens also display a range of character traits and personalities, from the mischievous and playful, to the greedy, noble, gregarious, wise, and compassionate.
I have a couple of winter stories for you today, myths about Raven from the Hadia people in British Columbia. Raven is often associated with winter and the winter solstice in the northern hemisphere. The first story is called “Raven Steals the Light.” My version of. this story is drawn from material that was collected by Robert Bringhurst. I’m grateful to Bringhurst and the native people who allow wisdom stories like these to be written down and shared outside the original circle of tellers, listeners, and weavers of story.
I invite you to relax and listen. Notice what you notice. You might let this story be a window into your current concerns. You might also hold it up to other stories that you know, maybe stories that you believe in some fashion, and see how they inform each other.
“Raven Steals the Light”
Way back in the very, very, beginning before there was anything, before there were animals walking on the earth, before there were birds in the trees, before there were fish in the ocean, there was an old man who lived in a little house on a riverbank with his only child, a daughter. Now, we don’t know whether or not this daughter was beautiful, or ugly because this story takes place in absolute darkness.
At the time that this story takes place, the world was completely dark. And that’s because this old man owned a series of boxes. He owned a box that fit into a box, that fit into a box, that fit into a box, that fit into a box. And the smallest box of these nested boxes was so small that all that it contained was all of the light in the universe.
Now Raven, existed at this time because there has never been a time when there was no Raven. And Raven wasn’t very happy with this state of affairs. He was trying to eat and do all of the things that he wanted to do in total darkness. We’re talking pitch dark. Darker than anything we ever seen now. And this meant that Raven did a lot of bumping into things and blundering around and it was a totally unsatisfactory situation. Well, eventually, despite all of this bumbling or perhaps because of all the bumbling and stumbling, he came across this house by the river.
At first he heard a sound. He thought maybe it was singing. But when he got closer, it turned out to be the voice of this old man, muttering. Raven listened very closely. You know, ravens pay attention to everything. And he heard the old man talking to himself and the man was saying, “Oh, I have a box within a box within a box within a box. And in the smallest box in the very middle, I have all of the light in the universe. And I’m going to keep it just for myself. Because if that light gets out, you’ll be able to see my daughter, and whether or not she’s ugly or whether or not she’s beautiful. Right now, it doesn’t matter at all. But if there were light, well, neither one of us may want to know the truth. “
It only took a moment for Raven to decide that he was going to steal the light. But the question then was how. He moved very carefully, all around the perimeter of the house, feeling high and low, left and right, covering every inch looking for some kind of an opening for a door or a window somewhere and he couldn’t find one. The walls were completely smooth planks.
Now the funny thing was, every now and then Raven heard the man or his daughter leave the house. But every time they left, they were on the opposite side of the house and when he got around to their side of the house and felt around, the walls were still unbroken. No matter how careful he was, and no matter how conscientious he was, they always managed to come and go without him catching them, and he never found an opening into this house.
So finally, Raven gave up on that strategy. He went a little ways upstream to think about Plan B. And as he sat there thinking, he thought more and more of, of the girl, the daughter who lived in the house. She started to stir his imagination, and other things. “Well,” he thought to himself, “it’s very possible, in fact it’s likely, that she’s as ugly as a sea slug. But on the other hand, she may be very beautiful. She may be as beautiful as the fronds of the hemlock, glistening against a bright spring sunrise. If of course, there was light enough to make such a sunrise.”
As he sat there contemplating this image, he got an idea and a possible solution to his problem. Now the young woman regularly came down to the stream to gather water, and Raven sat by the stream waiting for her. He could tell the sound of her footsteps in the darkness. When she got close, he changed himself into a single hemlock needle, and dropped onto the surface of the stream. He floated down just in time to be caught into the basket that the girl was dipping into the river.
Raven had great magic and even in the form of this little hemlock needle, he had enough magic to make the girl thirsty. And he did. And she took a deep drink from the basket and managed to swallow the needle. The needle that was Raven. Raven slithered down her throat and deep down into her insides, where he found a warm, soft, comfortable spot. And there he transformed himself into a baby, a human being. And he went to sleep. And while he slept, he grew as babies do.
The young woman didn’t realize what was happening for quite a while and neither did her father because of course, they lived together in total darkness, and such a thing had never happened before. But she started to feel a little unusual and one day her father bumped into her and became aware of a new presence in the house. Not long after, Raven emerged in the shape of a boy child.
He was very strange looking child, with some strange Raven characteristics. He was a boy with little bit of a beak, perhaps some few feathers hanging off of him here and there. And he had the bright shining eyes of the ever inquisitive of Raven. He would have attracted a great deal of attention, if anyone could have seen him.
In addition to these Raven characteristics, this little Raven boy child was very noisy. He talked a lot. He made a lot of sounds. And many of them were unpleasant, harsh, and strong and loud. The sound of disgruntlement or disapproval. But sometimes he could speak very softly. Maybe you’ve heard this the melodious quality, it’s almost bell like and it’s part of every raven’s speech. Well, at the times when he was speaking softly, his voice ringing like a little bell, his grandfather grew to love him and spent a lot of time playing with him and making toys for him.
For a time the three of them live together in the house, in total darkness There was a great incentive on the part of both the daughter and the man to keep this noisy boy child happy. And while their affection for him grew, their affection for his more troublesome crackling noises did not. And they became accustomed to meeting his demands. Raven, for his part, was always surreptitiously hunting and feeling around for those wooden boxes.
And finally, he discovered them. He became convinced that this big box that he could feel standing in one corner of the house was the largest of the nested boxes.
One day he said to his grandfather, “Grandfather, please let me play with the box.” Well, his grandfather wanted to say no, but as soon as he started to say “no” his Raven boy child grandson, started making a fuss and grandfather didn’t want that. So, he gave him the box. The Raven boy child played with the largest box for a while.
But then, he decided that he wanted the next box. And since any form of disagreement triggered his unpleasantly noisy protests, the grandfather gave him the next box. That box, the Raven child promised his grandfather, was the one thing that he needed to make him completely happy. And if you’re a grandfather or have ever observed grandfather’s or had a grandfather, then you know that the one thing that grandfather’s most like to do is to give their grandchildren the thing that will make them the most happy.
So box after box after box after box was given to Raven as a plaything. Now, it took quite a few days. There were a lot of boxes. And it took a lot of skillful, cajoling, manipulation. But one by one, the boxes were removed. And when there were only a few left, a strange kind of radiance started to fill the room.
Now it was still far too murky for any of the inhabitants to really see each other. But some big shapes and outlines were now apparent. This is when the Raven child begged to be allowed to hold the light for just a moment, because it was now obvious that there was light present. Now of course, a grandfather immediately refused, but gave in for the same reasons that he had always given. He went to the boxes, and he lifted out the light, and it was in the form of a beautiful incandescent ball, which he carefully tossed to his grandson.
That grandfather only got a glimpse of this strange child on whom he had lavished so much love and affection, because in the time it took for that ball of light to travel to the child, Raven changed himself from his human form, back into his raven shape, and as a huge shining black shadow with the wings spread, he opened his beak and took the ball. He snapped the light up in his jaws, thrust his wings forward, and shot like a ball out of a cannon through the smoke hole of the house, into that tremendous, deep darkness of the world.
That dark world was immediately transformed. Suddenly, the mountains and the valleys were starkly silhouetted. The waters of the rivers and the streams and the oceans were sparkling. The leaves of the trees cast dappled reflections, and everywhere life began to stir. The world woke up.
And from far, far away, there was another great winged creature that launched itself into the air and for the first time ever, Eagle could see where he was going. And for the first time ever, Eagle could see his target, which was, as you may guess, Raven.
Now Raven flew on enjoying his wonderful new possession and admiring the beauty of the world below, and the effect that he was having on everything there. Can you imagine being able to see, really see, for the first time? He was no longer flying blind, and he could now see what was the best, and get it for himself. He was having such an amazing time that he didn’t notice Eagle until eagle was almost on top of them.
Suddenly, he looked up to see the great bird descending on him with his talons outstretched. In a panic, he swerved to escape. And in so doing, he dropped half of the light that he was carrying. It fell down to the earth, landed on some rocks and smashed into a bunch of pieces, which then bounced back up into the sky and became what we know now today, as the moon, and the stars that give such brilliance to our night.
Eagle continued his pursuit of Raven, and they flew well beyond the rim of the world. They were finally exhausted from this long chase. Raven let go of that last bit of light, out there beyond the rim of the world. It gently floated onto the clouds and started up over the mountains in the east to become, of course, our Sun.
Well, those very, very first rays of sunlight in that first sun rise, in that first sun rise that hit our beautiful earth, were caught by the smoke hole in that house by the river where the old man sat bitterly weeping over the loss of his light, and the treachery of his beloved grandchild, and the possible fate of his daughter, poor thing, who is now revealed to all.
As the light came in, he became aware of her sitting quietly watching him. She was completely bewildered by everything that had happened. All of the commotion, the disappearance of her child. And when the old man looked up, he saw that she was as beautiful as the fronds of the hemlock against a spring sky at sunrise. He began to feel just a little bit better, as did everything on this fine earth.
And so it was that Raven stole the light from that old man and gave it to all of us.
Now, you may be wondering what happens next. Let me tell you one other short story from the Haida creation myths that might satisfy your curiosity just a little bit. This story was also collected by Robert Bringhurst.
“How Raven Found the First Humans”
After the coming of the light, there was a great flood. And after the waters from this great flood had at last receded, Raven found himself alone on the beach. Raven was there because Raven was always there. He gorged himself on the delicacies that were left by the receding water. As you know, ravens will eat just about anything. So for once, he wasn’t hungry. But his curiosity and his unquenchable itch to meddle and provoke things was deeply unsatisfied.
He was alone.
Raven gazed up and down the beach. It was pretty, but lifeless. There was no one around from him to upset or play tricks on. Raven was bored. He crossed his wings behind him and strutted up and down the sand. He cocked his shiny head, eyes sharp and ears alert for any unusual sight or sound. The mountains and the sea, the sky… everything was now ablaze with the sun by day and the moon and the stars at night. It was all light that he had created and placed but it was too quiet and still.
Exasperated, raven cried out to the empty sky and just then, he heard a muffled squeak. He looked up and down the beach for the source of this sound and saw nothing. He strutted back and forth, once, twice, three times, and he still didn’t see anything. But wait! There was a flash of white in the sand. Half buried in the sand was a giant clam shell. He walked closer. His shadow fell over the shell and Raven heard another muffled squeak.
He cocked his head and peered into the opening between the halves of the shell and saw that it was full of tiny creatures, cowering in fear. While Raven was delighted here was a break in the monotony of his day. But how was he going to get these little creatures to come out of their shell and play with him?
First he tapped on the shell and they just huddled and drew back, muttering and squeaking. So then, he called to them in his smooth voice, the seductive voice the voice with the bell. He sensed a calm settling over the inhabitants of the clamshell but not one emerged.
So Raven flew to a nearby bush and filled his beak with berries. He went back to the shell and laid the berries down outside and commenced his gentle cajoling. The creatures inside were hungry and at last, lured by the sight of the berries and Raven’s sweet voice, one by one, they came out of the shell.
They were white and yellow, and black, and brown, and red. Raven had never seen anything so frail and vulnerable. The fragility of these human beings aroused a special affection in his heart. After these first human beings had eaten the berries, Raven took them under his wing and he has remained our patron to this day, for better or for worse.
Now I want to pause here before I finish with Raven to give a big welcome to new subscribers: Andi, Nancy, Lisa, and Stephanie. Welcome to Myth Matters!
You can join my email list at the Mythic Mojo website. You will also find a transcript of this episode and information about different ways that you can work with me, to explore the mythic dimension of your life.
The end of the calendar year is an especially useful time to tap into a more intuitive and imaginative form of knowing. If you are feeling the urge to dream and plan a bit bigger next year or to meet a challenge in a new way, I encourage you to look into my Story Oracle readings. I still have some availability between now and the end of the year. The details are at mythicmojo.com
A shout out of gratitude to the patrons of Myth Matters on patreon, Special thanks today to Anna, Lisa, and Frank. Thank you! If you’re finding something of value here, I hope you will consider becoming a patron too.
Now, most native peoples hold the raven and the crow as sacred. They are messengers between the realms. They bring news and warnings.
In spring of 1998, I went to camp at Chaco Canyon in New Mexico. The second day I went hiking out to the western end of the park on the Penasco Blanco trail. I was alone. It was hot. I stretched out on a big smooth rock ledge and tipped my hat over my face to rest for a few minutes. I must have fallen asleep because a raven woke me up. He sat on a dead limb that was lying on the ledge about 10 feet away.
He had a lot to say and that must remain between the two of us, but now you know why the raven is the totem featured in the logo of my work and mythic mojo.
Ravens are amazing storytellers and they know a lot. You might be familiar with the work of Konrad Lorenz. He was a Nobel Prize-winning naturalist and an expert on birds. One of his books is titled King Solomon’s Ring: New Light on Animal Ways. The title refers to an ancient esoteric text about a magical ring called the Seal of Solomon, that belonged to the wise king Solomon of Israel. Lorenz writes:
“As Holy Scripture tells us, the wise king Solomon, the son of David, spake also of beasts, and of fowl, and of creeping things, and of fishes… A slight misreading of this text, which very probably is the oldest record of a biological lecture, has given rise to the charming legend that the king was able to talk the language of animals, which was hidden from all other men… I am quite ready to believe that Solomon really could do so, even without the help of the magic ring which is attributed to him by the legend in question, and I have very good reason for crediting it; I can do it myself, and without the aid of magic, black or otherwise. I do not think it is very sporting to use magic rings in dealing with animals. Without supernatural assistance, our fellow creatures can tell us the most beautiful stories, and that means true stories, because the truth about nature is always far more beautiful even than what our great poets sing of it…”
As I have learned, my friend, Raven teaches us how to go into the dark to bring forth the light. If you share your corner of this beautiful world with ravens, please keep your eye out for them and say hello from me. Remember that ravens, like crows, have a finely tuned sense of fair play and reciprocity. If they give you a gift, give one in return. Speaking from experience, you never know what might come of this exchange.
If we have a better understanding of our need for myth, and all that our old stories offer, we can live more satisfying lives. We can inhabit a better story and create a more beautiful, just and sustainable world.
And that’s it for me, Catherine Svehla and Myth Matters. Thank you so much for listening. Take good care of yourself and until next time, keep the mystery in your life alive.
Leave a Reply