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God Plutus and God Aristaeus

Gods of Wealth and Consumables share advice on money and contentment.
Text title Plutus and Aristaeus

Summary of Contents: Plutus in Mythology | Arrival and Appearance | All I Want is That | Cost of Jackpot | Beauty of the Banal | Gods and Mortals | Wealth of Happiness | Aristaeus in Mythology | Arrival and Appearance | Contentment and Prayer

Festival Days - 21 October Plutus. 11 April Aristaeus

Plutus in Mythology

Plutus is listed as the God of wealth, of abundance; of good harvest.

Poet Aristophanes' play told a story of how Plutus deliberately was blinded by Zeus, so that his distribution of wealth would be indiscriminate.

Others went so far as to claim Plutus was lame, so arriving late but also possessed wings to leave swiftly.

In Aristophanes’ comedy Plutus’ sight was restored by Zeus, so he could see who was deserving. 'So creating havoc,' is the opinion of world-brain Wikipedia.

Plutus is also listed by some as son of Hades and Persephone.

Dante in Canto VII of Inferno lists Plutus as a demon guarding the fourth circle of Hell, the designated place for 'Hoarders and Wasters'.

Goddesses, Gods and You

What kind of Heaven do you expect. Soft fluffy paradise of eternity, or oblivion of nothingness? Out-of-body survival expert Margo Williams discovered a surprisingly simple system of management and afterlife recycling.

There are many goddesses and gods in the community. Speaking their name aloud evidently sends a signal; creates a link to wherever they are at any given moment. If it works for you as it worked for Margo, and they respond, be respectful but be yourself. Honesty and thoughtfulness are appreciated.

Sacrifice nothing but your time. Most of them seemed approachable and appreciated being remembered.

The ancient temples that still can be found in some places, although mostly broken, are huge monumental structures; impressive sacred spaces, their scale designed to impress, to be worthy of divine visitation.

However, it is not the size and splendour of any sacred space but the sincerity of the person seeking contact.

Anywhere can be a temple.

Photo image of Margo Williams in Africa
Margo Williams in Africa
"Is Plutus a demon guarding Hell's warehouse for hoarders and wasters? Everyone hoards and wastes to some degree or other," Nick Hammond asked out-of-body survivalist Margo Williams.

Plutus Arrival and Appearance

"Plutus didn’t say anything to me about Hell, during our time together. He didn’t have wings, wasn’t lame.

He didn’t mention any relationship, except to wealth.

It was a useful reminder.

His arrival was the strangest so far. A dot of speckled golden-sparkle light, tiny but bright as a star, concentrated in the air.

As if to a magnet, my body felt like a piece of metal drawn toward it.

And I wanted it to do just that, very much indeed at that moment. Didn’t even struggle. No one pulled me, I floated happily toward the light; even yearned to become part of it.

Someone watched me. A barefoot figure, male, forty years or so but golden. Skin, hair; eyes too. Honeyed amber gold.

Amazing in appearance though he seemed, I was much more interested in reaching that tiny dot of light and becoming one with it.

All I Want is That

I struggled for the light. That was what I most wanted in my own personal history of ever wanting anything.

Until suddenly, something clicked in my brain. 'Resist.'

But I didn’t want to. I so did not want to pull back.

Resist!’ Reluctantly I made an effort. Feeble though it was but the delicious starlight vanished. The attraction stopped.

I stared at where the light had been, feeling hopelessly disappointed.

"Eventually, you knew not to," said the golden god. He stood dressed in a short tunic, all-in-one, over one shoulder and down to just above knee-height.

A muscular physique. He wore something in his hair, a silver laurel wreath.

"It is good that you have decided to pay homage to me." He reached a golden hand toward me. "Come."

The Cost of Jackpot

We arrived on a street of small terraced houses, entered an untidy alley-way. Gang graffiti on walls, rubbish bins spilled over broken concrete pavement.

Plutus stopped at an open gate to look into a small back-yard. A woman was hanging out clothes on a washing line, two young children close by.

The house back door opened, a short white man stepped out and scooped up the kids in his arms, causing them to giggle, happily.

Both adults aged late 20s, I guessed; not wealthy, by the look of the house and yard. The man kissed the woman, kissed the kids, boy and girl.

Together they finished the washing line chore; lots more giggling then they all headed back inside, unaware of the golden god stood among the washing.

He followed them inside, into a small cramped crowded sitting room.

Lots of photographs, a small flat television in the corner. Kids chittered, mum tried to hush them; the man held a slip of paper in his hand watching a series of numbers on the TV screen.

"Ordinary, happy mortals have now won a fortune," said Plutus.

The lucky family probably wouldn’t have paid much attention to the God in their living room, even if they had seen him. They screamed and jumped around like they had just won the lottery. They had.

Beauty of the Banal

Plutus backed out through the door, into the yard and returned to the street. Sounds of the ocean suggested we were close to water.

And so it proved to be when he took the next turning, the street led to a wide sanded beach.

Behind it rose apartment blocks above cafes and beach-ware shops; signs read in English but nothing by which to identify the town or city.

A woman sat hunched over on a bench, a scratch-card in her hand; a coin in the other.

Plutus stopped beside her but his interest was the beach, people enjoying the warm summer-day sunshine.

A young family played in the shallow water. An older pair sat holding hands.

"I show you wealth," Plutus gestured. "The wealth of happiness." Unaware of him so close by, the woman stared hard scrutinising the card’s revelation then stuffed it into her pocket and pulled out another £5 card.

Neither seemed to be lucky. She brushed the scrapings from her lap and stared at the ocean, disappointment soured her face.

Gods and Mortals

Plutus turned to me. "At first, I treated you with suspicion," he said, bluntly. "Every mortal would pray to me if they realised I existed."

He paused thoughtful.

"Mortals who pray, whatever their religion may be, they ask for things. I am a great and powerful God. I can do many things."

He walked away from the unlucky card-scratcher, headed along the seafront; waved me to follow.

"There is more in life than great wealth. It does not bring happiness," he continued. "If mortals pray to one of us that they can receive our blessings and whatever they wish for, we may listen. But we do not encourage greed."

I picked up a discarded scratchcard and popped it in the trash bin. Didn't know if it was recycle or not.

Plutus concluded his lesson on the love of money. "Mortals are greedy, the more they have the more they want."

He gestured. "Unless they honour me, for myself, I will not listen to their prayers. And now I realise how sincere you are."

Plutus touched my shoulder. "You have never asked for my help. You have little. If I could distribute the wealth of your world, I would see you had your fair share. But that is impossible."

I wondered on the difficult relationship between Gods and humans. We want them to make changes to our lives, but sometimes they must disappoint our prayers; maybe mindful of other fateful connections.

"It is not meant at this moment," Plutus continued. "Yet you have enough for this moment in time."

Wealth of Happiness

Plutus’ second example of wealth of happiness followed.

A flower-filled meadow outside of town where bees buzzed among flower blooms and butterflies flittered in the gentle southerly breeze.

"Absorb the power the blooms give. Wherever there is natural beauty in any wild thing, there is great power," he explained.

So we walked in silence absorbing the peace and the power of nature until eventually he stopped and turned to me. "I need say no more, except to give you my blessings, and the gift of prosperity. There are many ways," he emphasised.

"Happiness. Wealth of knowledge, and the wealth of wisdom," he added.

And then he was gone.

Plutus, as depicted in art, was often portrayed bearing cornucopia, the fabled horn of plenty. Sometimes he was depicted as a child in the arms of Tyche.

He said nothing to me by way of relationship, and I didn’t ever see him holding a cornucopia but he did show me what happened to the lucky lottery winners.

It changed their lives, but the cost was separation.

God Aristaeus in Mythology

God Aristaeus is listed as a son of Apollo and the Thessalian princess Cyrene.

Pindar the poet told the story of soon after Aristaeus’ birth, god Hermes took him away to be raised strictly on ambrosia and nectar and turned immortal by earth goddess Gaea.

Aristaeus’ gifts to the world of people, so old stories told, were those learned from his illustrious relatives: healing and herb-craft from his father Apollo; alcohol into wine, beer and mead from uncle Dionysus.

The skills and patience to sow and harvest, from great-aunt Demeter. His skill-set also included dairy products, cream and cheese and oil from the olive. Aunt Artemis taught him hunting and husbandry of the wild.

Long ago, anyone with any sense offered Aristaeus a prayer; anyone whose business was consumables and supply.

Aristaeus’ name means 'The Best'.

Aristaeus Arrival and Appearance

Aristaeus' arrival was a burst of purple light.

A young god, dark eyes, short curly hair; dark-toned muscular physique. He wore a short blue tunic. He too stood barefoot.

"Candles are lit, incense is burned. And so I arrive, as this shows a sign of respect," he said. "I would not if this was not observed."

He was silent a while, inspecting the situation then returned his attention to me with a gesture. "You welcome me. I am a great God. Centuries have passed and I am forgotten."

His voice friendly but firm, no bitter tone to the complaint. "Thank you for showing your respect and love, which I think is my due."

A ripple of golden light coursed across his face and body. Face creased with wrinkles as if he aged seventy years in a second, hair turned to white. Even the tunic lengthened into a long white robe.

"I can appear as I wish." He pointed. "You are very privileged. Perhaps you do not realise how fortunate?"

Contentment and Prayer

He stared hard, gauging my reaction to that statement.

"Although the path sometimes is stony and steep, it will become easier." The elderly god smiled as gold light rippled again, down his body. Young god reformed; blue tunic restored from robe.

"We all enjoy our visits and listening to your words. Always remember how privileged you are, even when things do not go just as you think they should."

The gold light shimmered like it was ready to transform into anything Aristaeus wanted, it was alive with possibility. He ended his visit with an announcement.

"There are many dimensions between you and where we dwell," he added. "Yet, from the mightiest to the lowest of gods and goddesses, we come together and return to your world."

Aristaeus didn't ever confirm or reveal what part and responsibilities were his in that restoration. Only that promise of change.

Thank you for your company on this short introduction to gods plutus and Aristaeus. If you would like to know more about Margo Williams' experiences and suggestions for how to survive in the hereafter read this book. Now available from Amazon.

Book cover link to purchase Olympian Goddesses and Gods Coexistence
Olympian Goddesses and Gods Coexistence. Now available from Amazon.co.uk