LIVING WITH HEART

The Gift of Heart

Candace A. Croft, Ph.D.
© 2006 Candace A. Croft
 

The young girl knelt before the window, arm resting on the sill, chin propped on the back of her hand.  A study in concentration, she sat as a marble sculpture remembering her dad’s words.  You see, whenever he saw something she did not—a falling star, a faerie beneath a leaf, or an angel spreading her wings—he explained that she missed it because she blinked.  Not tonight.  This night, she would not lapse in her watch.  She opened her blue eyes wide refusing to miss the spectacular appearance.  She had waited all year for this singular chance and was prepared to maintain vigil until the last shred of darkness evaporated from the sky, in case she was last on the route.  The tiniest snap! of a sound, the subtlest puff of air brushing her cheek, released a momentary surge of excitement and heightened her alertness.  Little circles dotted the glass where she leaned into the future to get a better view of impending joy and, face pressed against the pane, the warmth of her faithful spirit condensed in contact with the cold world.

Across the hours, muscles wearied, eyelids sagged with heaviness, and her body slumped with exhaustion.  Those in attendance kept their guard until her breathing changed into a slow, deep rhythm.  Dad gently swept the child into his arms and nestled her among the downy covers and sweet-smelling sheets.  Mom took a bite from cookies on the plate and drank the glass of milk.

In the wee morning hours, the girl’s disappointment of having slept through the event would be erased by what marked the visit.  She could not testify to his presence that year, but knew deep in her heart—don’t ask how, she just knew—that he did exist, despite what the skeptics and older kids said.  Full of spirit, she would earnestly vow to complete her watch next year and meet Jolly St. Nick.  Ah, the power of belief.

Advent is a time of waiting for the birth of The Son.  Not confined to Christianity, many belief systems observe the appearance of The Son or the Sun at winter solstice and proclaim the birth of the heir to heaven’s kingdom as a bright savior.  

Mithraic tradition notes the winter solstice as the birth of the Sun and a new day.  Pagans celebrate mid-December as the time when Mother Goddess gives birth to the Divine Child.  In Norse cultures, the birthday of Lord Frey, god of sunshine and rain, peace and prosperity is celebrated with Yule, those dark days of winter that grow longer before the Sun returns in majesty.  Historically, the primary Nordic celebration has not been the day of arrival, but the vigil—the eve of the Sun’s birth called Mother Night.  In Pagan and Norse traditions, the woman who gives life to the Son/Sun enjoys a place of great honor.  Christmas incorporates several of those customs and celebrations into its practice—Yule logs, mistletoe and holly, carols, gift giving, apples, and pine trees decorated with figures symbolic of deities. 

The Christian story of the virgin birth at winter solstice parallels mythic tales.  Virgin Mary?!  Who’s buying that?  Believing in a pregnant woman’s purity is nearly impossible for a world solidly anchored in the material way where acts of copulation can be witnessed with startling regularity on cable television.  A difficult delivery, the message of the Virgin Mary must transcend a credibility gap that comes from attempting to understand a Mystery limited by physical reality. 

Her story assumes higher meaning when placed within a different context and viewed from an alternate perspective.  In earlier times, the word virgin meant an unmarried woman—sexual activity was not part of the definition.  Even if one struggles to believe in a Higher Power, subtle energy, or miracles, that clarification should make the story easier to digest.  It is generally accepted that Mary was unmarried when she conceived.

Sun gods throughout the ages resulted from virgin conceptions.  Mary joins the ranks of such notable goddesses as Isis, Mariamne, Aphrodite, Juno, and Maya.  Like Persephone, Mary sat spinning a blood-red thread of life when the angel Gabriel (whose name means “divine husband”) came upon her.  To “come upon her” is the genteel euphemism for sexual intercourse.  Nine months later, Joseph and Mary were caught by a dark night and took shelter in a stable or, by some accounts, the womb of a cave.  Here, they awaited a new dawn and the birth of The Son.   As in other sacred traditions, Mary is accorded a place of high honor for her role in the birth.   

Mary knew in her heart she was destined for greatness even before Gabriel came to her.  Being chosen for specialness is scary.  Yet, each of us has a special role to fulfill in this world.  When we fear our divinity and run from its duty, we separate from sanctity and, feeling ashamed about refusing a wondrous gift, hide behind fig leaves in a state of impurity.  Mary’s acceptance of her role in the Mystery was all the more remarkable because, in addition to its tremendous responsibility, it was tied to potentially grave consequences.  As a pregnant, unmarried teen not confined to the Vestal Temple, she could have been condemned to death by stoning.  Her humanness undoubtedly trembled at the thought, but she placed her heart above public opinion and walked with grace straight through her fear into glory.  How many of us would do the same? 

The season of hope provides the opportunity to honor her courage.  Advent is not about sitting with our noses pressed against a window waiting for blessedness to arrive, but about actively preparing our temples to receive divine enlightenment into our lives.  It is about living the gift of promise we have been given in our hearts.

Mary was chosen as a vessel to carry divinity and, so, represents the goddess giving birth to radiance.  We are created in her image, whether or not we want to believe we are worthy of the gift, whether or not we run screaming from the burden of it.  Each of us is a vessel created to hold sacredness from Above.  We all carry Mary’s honor.  The question remains:  Will we follow on her path and labor to bring forth the Light from within us?

Our vessels must be prepared to accept the gift by being emptied of profane substance.  Divinity cannot enter impurity; all levels of the temple require cleansing.  Physical reverence involves eating essentially and exercising regularly.  The body is not a wasteland.  Nourish it according to its needs, rather than timetables, habit, nervousness, or convenience.  Physical integrity is an indication of your spiritual fortress.

Choose intimate partners deliberately.  You do not want another’s unseemly energy defiling your temple.  Know Self well enough to discern between love and loneliness. 

Mary maintained pure thoughts, emotions, and spirit by spurning Darkness as a suitor at every advance; so must we.  When negativity comes knocking, acknowledge what seeks entrance, then sweep it from the steps before it finds sanctuary.  Never let it stain your perspective. 

Empty yourself of fear, anger, bitterness, and jealousy; you would not place a fine wine in an amphora used for vinegar.  Rid yourself of thoughts and actions that are destructive, harsh, hostile, or deceptive; you cannot draw nourishment from a contaminated well.   Scrub away any grime that has marred the holy structure.  Believe in your sacredness.  Hold that belief strongly, enchantingly, next to your heart.  Feel its quickening.  Give birth to your divinity.  Don’t fall asleep waiting for the gift to arrive.  You already have it, now open it.  Commit each day of Advent to living spotlessly. 

To assist in preparing your vessel during this period, try the following activity.  Take a crystal vase or bowl.  If you cannot afford crystal, glass will do nicely.  The idea is to find a vessel that symbolizes blessedness and clarity.  Fill it with water and float a flower upon it—a gardenia, a rose—a precious bloom reminiscent of the lotus blossom.  Freshen the water to keep it clear.  Replace the dying bloom, as needed.  Never allow decay to fill the vessel.  Sit it in the light and notice how it takes on life as illumination streams through.  Recognize its changed appearance when shadows descend or the water becomes cloudy and stale.  Examine it daily and, as you attend to it, check the level and clarity of your living vessel.  

Mary’s memory should not be demeaned by cynicism arising from physical literalness.  Mary was, above all, a spiritual vessel manifest in material form, pure and unaffected by Darkness, her feet upon a cloud, never touching mundane ground.  Out of her naiveté came gnosis and The Son.  From shadows of ignorance comes enlightenment from the Sun.   

The season of promise is upon us and the message is clear:  Accept the gift of heart you have been given and prepare for the day.  Cleanse your vessel that you might share in the Mystery and let its offering of awakening shine through you.  When you do, you honor the image of your creation. 

What are you waiting for?

KEEP YOUR HEARTLIGHT SHINING