• Tag Archives sacred
  • Sacred

    Imbolc                                                                  Full Bloodroot Moon

    “Today is only one day in all the days that will ever be. But what will happen in all the other days that ever come can depend on what you do today.” – Ernest Hemingway

    A wordy sentence for the master of terse.  Still.  Not only is it true, it will be true each and every day.  It could also be said that this hour is only one hour in all the hours to come, but what happens in it can influence all the other hours you’ll ever have.  Be here now has its detractors, I know, those who want to talk about history and the future, yet with all their reluctance or eagerness, they must still leave the past behind and the future for the next moment, because we are never in any time other than now.  Life comes to us in the present tense.  Always.  And ends the same way.

    A presentation tomorrow morning at Groveland, Redefining the Sacred.  I’ll post it here after I’ve given it.  There’s a whole book, maybe several, in this general theme, a way of understanding the awesome, terrible, wonderful, magical, sacred nature of the lives we live and the world in which we live them, understanding them, that is, without needing an authority to tell us how, understand them within the experiences we have now, not ones we might have later, after death or in some altered state.

    You might think my flat-earth approach to religious mystery rules out an after-life or a supernatural possibility.  Not at all.  It just means I don’t have anything to say about it.  If death includes a future, well, I’m there.  If not, I won’t be.  If there is a supernatural realm, a realm of the gods, I want to visit, but I’ve not seen the evidence for it.

    So, a way of understanding the sacred within our lived experience excites me, makes me want to tell others of the possibility.  Which I will do tomorrow.

  • Holiseason: The Sacred Walks Among Us

    Samhain                                           Waxing Thanksgiving Moon

    Holiseason has gotten underway with the usual signs:  bare trees, halloween candy going stale in the bowl, Santa Claus and Christmas music showing up well before Thanksgiving, a few turkey related cartoons.  The concentrated portion of holiseason begins with Thanksgiving and runs with little stopping through January 6th, the Feast of the Epiphany and the last of the Twelve Days of Christmas.

    Now, we have signs and symbols, little in the way of active celebrating, but a sacred nimbus began to spread out as Samhain festivities came and went, a nimbus that extends over this difficult, cold, darkening period, drenching us in the depths of our own lives and in the collective life of our friends, family and community.  This is a two month plus stretch of the year that cries out for alone time, time to explore what constitute our deepest values, for together time to reaffirm our love and our regard for each other, for gifts and lights and merriment. Let Fezziwig’s feast start early this year.

    I wish you the best of this long and roller coast time, a cup of good cheer, a smile and a moment or more of reflection, even meditation.

  • The Residue of Sacred Time

    Beltane                                           Full Planting Moon

    I’ve done some weeding, well, a good bit of weeding, but the heat, now 89 and direct, drove me back inside.  At least the dew point is reasonable, but over 80 and I begin to wilt.  Three cheers for central air conditioning.  Over the years I’ve adapted to the Norwegian lifestyle, that is, living like we were in Norway with no windows or doors.  Now it’s important to me.

    That holiday penumbra has fallen over time, a sense that fireworks and hot dogs, or gods on pedestals carried by shouting crowds, or parades with car after car of  young women doing the wave or a hushed night filled with candles and quiet might break out at any moment.   Sacred time comes to us in many guises and its residue, as we grow older, collects on our soul, offering us a taste of eternity each holiday, birthday, anniversary.  This residue is one of the unexpected and great joys of aging.  I can hear the marching bands passing, the quiet congregation praying, family members talking while decorating the offrenda, the winter winds howling on a solstice night.

    A weekend to remember.