Came and went quietly in our home. It was the Last Holy Day of Christmastide, and the last day of presents, decorations, Christmas music, and it seems like, a certain mood of subtle power and divinity.
I can’t help but notice it’s absence, now. And recall how strange it is, to miss something suddenly when I hadn’t noticed it was there while it was present.
You don’t miss it until it’s gone.
And that seems to be the way of all things which are of that same Christic origin. It is the quality of softness; of power that refuses to demand attention. It arrives without fanfare, but with an announcement rather seen in the stars by those who look for it. It stands in perfect wholeness, never needing or requiring acknowledgement. It slips away again without ado. And in its place is a silence… not exactly an absence… but rather an invitation. If we care to notice; if we intend to nurture the subtle experience which brightens and deepens our subtle awareness, then we can take the experience with us like a chalice. It remains in us, deepening and gaining subtler qualities of perception that allow the chalice to receive ever more.
I don’t really know much about the significance of Epiphany, historically. It only began to enter my awareness as a feeling experience a few years ago. Well, more like 5 years ago, now. Each year, it has seemed to speak to me on a more profound level. This year of course, being the most profound, I perceived a sort of universal ecstasy on the Solstice. And those quiet, dark 3 days that the “Sun was dead for our worldly sins” it miraculously was born again on Christmas Day; the day we celebrate the sun-god’s birth. There did seem to be, to me, something special occurring again on New Year’s day, although I don’t think I could put it into any kind of words or context. I dreamt of birth, becoming “clean”, old sins washed away and reintegration into the world, of choice, becoming an adult, freedom.
I feel an insight, just now upon reflection, that the twelve Holy Days are of course, the twelve apostles. But among the nights appears a mysterious thirteen. To what do we owe the mystery of the thirteenth?
I think it is probably Mary… the Mother of Christ, but not Mary the mother of Jesus. For Virgo, of course, the 6th sign, and the 6th Holy Night is the night that the New Year is born. Represented by Mary Magdalene; not a mother but the pure substance of the female creative power. She did not bear Jesus, nor the Christ directly, but she carried something else- something hidden. And that’s why she is in the thirteenth night and does not have a day.
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