Today was a Holy day for all Christians, the Dormition/Assumption of the Holy Mother (terminology varies according to sect e.g. Orthodox or Catholic, and if you are following the Julian calendar you get to fast for another 13 days). As religious milestones go I would say it holds a close second to the Resurrection of Christ. His birth was also significant, but being born is something that happens to everyone, being resurrected on the other hand is a far more impressive achievement.
This day presents an opportunity for friends and family to be reunited in celebration of the Great Mother’s being reunited with the Holy Spirit. In the absence of my family some good friends stepped in kindly inviting me into their fold for the day. I was treated to a lovely meal with wonderful people followed by a pleasant stroll through a gorge to a tiny chapel.
This particular chapel had been concealed within the forest for centuries, an unassuming structure facing west and overlooking the gorge and rolling hills beyond. In contrast to the grand Basilicas of the island’s population centers, this truly was an ideal place for peaceful meditation. My heart had been feeling pretty holey of late, my resolve and endurance tried and tired.
I thought my way through the last few months and the challenges they had posed: dealing with fear, trepidation, apprehension, uncertainty and finally loss of a loved one. Trying to maintain equilibrium among surviving family members while battling rage and grief. Measuring the gaps created in my personal “game plan” by the need to re-prioritize in the face of crisis on many levels, and alas endeavoring to bridge those gaps. Feeling small and often inept in the face of situations beyond the scope of my control or even influence.
I discovered that for the last 6 days I have been cocooning. Sure to all appearances I have been going about business as usual: errands, shopping, housework… but my mind has been cloistered, incubating itself in anticipation of a metamorphosis. What new form will my thoughts and actions take? What new course will those thoughts and actions chart? To what new challenges will that course eventually lead me?
Mortality, among other things, is a catalyst. Perhaps propellant would be a more accurate word choice. Being confronted with the absolute nature of mortality can motivate you to live each day wholly, thus making each day you are alive Holy. Every day becomes a sacred gift to be cherished, a new opportunity to relish love, to create beauty, to consciously choose to share the most noble elements of your self with those you contact and thus evoke their best qualities as well.
Maybe we should all try to live our lives wholly. If we manage to do that our hearts will no longer be holey. The reward will be the metamorphosis of our existence into something luminous and Holy.
Endure the pain, comprehend the commonality, sense the unity, express the amity, and live the joy which is existence.
Victoria Andre King is a freelance writer and audiovisual professional her novel The Führer Must Die is available for pre-orders and will be released on November 8th 2016 with Yucca Publications, an imprint of Sky Horse Publishing NYC.