The story goes, Ogun, the god of iron and innovation, had grown depressed by the state of the world—the state of humanity ceaselessly using his gifts to bully and injure. So, deciding he could see no more, he took himself and his gifts into a cave. To stay.
With Ogun gone from the world, civilizations began to break down. Obatala, his father and King of the gods asked him to come out. “There is no beauty left in the world. I am staying here. “
Shango, the God of Justice, tries to reason with him. And still Ogun refuses to leave. His mother, Yemanja, the Goddess of the Ocean tries to flood him out.
And still Ogun refused to leave.
Iyansa called up her army of the dead. Ogun quickly sent them back to peace and, still refused to leave. This back and forth with the gods trying to trick, reason, and bully Ogun out of the cave (while the world slid back into the Dark Ages) were unsuccessful.
As the gods discussed new tactics to get Ogun out of his cave, Ochun cleared her throat. Ochun, Goddess of the Sweet water, known for her beauty, her sensuality, and her deep and abiding sense of self-respect said, “I can get him out.”
The gods laughed, “You! What can you do to get him out?” Obatala stepped in to restore order before Ochun got mad and took herself away again (but that’s another story). “Ochun, if you can bring your brother from the cave, you can save humanity.”
Ochun looked back at the gods who still giggled. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and slowly straightened her dress over every curve of her body. The giggling ceased. Dry throats attempted to swallow. Ochun had that effect. She was sensuality incarnate and neither god nor man was immune. Slowly, sauntering towards the cave her hips beat out a rhythm that churned rivers and smashed with force against the rocks in a waterfall. Just as quickly, the water pooled into a basin dug from its own force and tenacity.
Ochun’s newly created lake was just outside of Ogun’s cave. Sacred plants of basil sprung up, showing this to be a protected space, cleansed of lower energies. Shrubs of honeysuckle, fragrant in full bloom, cast a sweetness into the air. She knew the perfumed breeze would announce her and, so, she stripped off her dress—appreciating every sensation of the air against her naked skin—and waded into the water.
Ochun began to lather her body sensuously with honey, slowly washing and rubbing the honey across her neck, her breasts, her belly...And Ogun stood erect before her—out of his cave.
The moral of the story—besides the obvious aphorism of attracting bees with honey—is to never underestimate the power of scent when coupled with a woman embracing her divine sexual energy.