Loading ...Arab Beauty Naturally: Finding the Goddess in Lebanon
BY: Christine Shahin/Ambassador Blogger
The year 2012 was the start of a deep metamorphic experience for me. I overcame a large number of deaths in my immediate and extended family, my small niche business was growing with all the transitional pains that are part of any birthing process, and I was running for County Legislature, while embracing a milestone birthday. As a result of this grieving period, my children had created an online birthday gift appeal from family and friends to send me to Lebanon, the land of my family’s stories.
The excitement of this gift was eclipsed by the hard emotional space of my heart, so my journey to Lebanon happened the following year, where I was joined with my two daughters, Lena and Shadia. My cousin Barbara, her husband Mahmoud, and their son Jad, then a senior in high school, received us.
My children had already been to Lebanon before I was ever able to, so this was a return for them. Thankfully, Shadia was taking Arabic classes so she was able to bridge my language gap.
My closest girlfriend Emmy, who passed in 2012, had always encouraged me to go to Lebanon after her trip to Italy, the country of her ancestors, saying “there’s just something about seeing whole towns where people look like you.” While there was some of that recognition in Lebanon, Beirut was so racially and culturally diverse, that I was told I did not look Lebanese at all by some.
My daughters and I traversed from the Corniche Boardwalk in Beirut, where people fished the Mediterranean Sea in cutoff jeans under plush, high rise buildings, to the mountains of Jazien; from the Souq of Saida to the Ehden Nature Preserve; from the Jeita Grotto, home of the world’s largest known stalactite, to the Chouf in Bsharri, home of Khalil Gibran; and the Qadisha Valley with the #1 Taxi Driver/Guide Michel, who took us home for lunch with his beautiful wife and children.
It was in Jbeil/Byblos as we were walking through the ancient ruins that we almost missed one of the most profound, underground ancient remains of our trip. There was a small, unassuming marker standing alone as we turned the grassy bend. It looked as though there was nothing to see, but still I stopped to read it. “This is the site of the original source well of the goddess Isis,” it stated.
The unnoticeable marking then elaborated on how devotees would gather at designated times to worship and receive the abundant water of the well, now dry. Stories of the goddess Isis are usually attributed to Ancient Egypt, but here was an original well of water in her name in Lebanon.
Excited, I walked towards the nothingness, discovered an edge, and peered down to find this breathtaking site. I removed my sandals so I could scamper down the worn staircase to the well, my daughters following behind. The well is built deep, with ancient stones serving dual purpose as wall and steps that lead to the actual stone wellhead.
The goddess Isis is most known for the deep grief she feels after losing her love Osiris and rising above the pain to a new power. Depending on who is telling the story, her love is either her son or her brother, which, seen through patrilineal sight, is taken literally and is seen as immoral. Matrilineal sight, on the other hand, sees all people children of mother or as siblings, which would make my husband, though his genealogy is European, my (spiritual) brother, and a son of a mother.
When the goddess Isis set out to find the dead body of her love, the search took her to Phoenicia, where she met Queen Astarte, who hired the goddess Isis as a nursemaid to her infant prince as she didn’t recognize her as the goddess.
Isis grew fond of Astarte’s son and decided to make him immortal. Astarte entered as Isis was holding the royal child over the ritual fire. Assuming her son was being harmed, Queen Astarte instinctively grabbed her son from the flames, thereby undoing the rite of Isis that would have made the boy a god.
Isis then affirmed her identity and shared her quest to recover her husband’s body. As Astarte listened, she realized that the body was hidden in the center of the palace and told Isis in which fragrant tree it was.
After securing her love Osiris’ body, Isis then hid it in the swamps of the River Nile, waiting to carry his remains back to Egypt for a proper burial. The box containing Osiris’ body was discovered by Set, his murderer, while out hunting. Enraged, Set hacked Osiris’ body into 14 pieces and threw them far and wide in different directions, believing that crocodiles would eat them.
After endlessly searching once again for her lost love, Isis found Osiris’ body parts and rejoined them, bringing her husband back to life. Together, they conceived a child, Horus, who later became the Sun God. Osiris, now assured that Horus would sooth Isis’ grief, descended to become the King of the Underworld, ruling over the dead and the sleeping, though his spirit frequently returned to be with his beloved wife and son, who remained under his watchful and loving eye.
There are many deviations of this story. In some, Isis found the body of Osiris in Byblos; in another the goddess eats the dismembered parts of her husband and brings him back to life as her son Horus. In another account, Isis morphs into a sparrow hawk fluttering over Osiris, fanning life back into him with her long wings.
The common thread in these differing versions is the resurrection of life over death and the transcendent feminine ability to create new life from profound grief.
The discovery of this wellhead brought me back to my own purpose in life. It was 2006 when I decided to become an entrepreneur, creating my all-natural wellness beauty consulting business, now a full service natural salon/spa. I wanted to name it after a goddess, as they are often associated with beauty and love, and I wanted her to come from the land of my roots. I chose Astarte, unbeknownst of her relationship to Isis, but because she is considered Phoenician.
A framed papyrus image of the ancient Egyptian goddess Isis hangs in my salon/spa and reminds me of her many timeless gifts she has given all women: the embodiment of determination; the capacity to feel and grieve deeply and to rise anew; the source of sustenance and protection; the discerning power of passion and compassion, rather than logic or brute strength; and the ability to use personal gifts to create what we want, rather than living in constant reaction to what we don’t want.
That renewal of body is important and love is a feeling that is not static, but a force for action that can conquer death, creating a new way of living. It was this journey to Lebanon and reuniting with family – some I met for the first time – that began my inner journey of self-healing and brought me to the world of ancient feminine wisdom found at the well.
Christine Shahin, author of Natural Hair Coloring, is a licensed cosmetologist and holistic beauty practitioner who owns and operates a popular natural beauty-salon/spa that attracts clients from across the United States. She has a conventional cosmetology license, though her interest and focus have always been on using natural, safe, ecologically responsible approaches to self care.
