Diary of a Heretic

Have you noticed the crisp coolness in the air of late which is heralding the fast approach of winter? As I looked outside my office window today I noticed the occasional dead maple leaf being swept high into the air and then being spiraled in grand crescendos by the intermittent gusts of wind.

Each year I seem to connect deeper to the seasons; I look forward to the awakening that each season stirs within, sometimes with great jubilation and other times in trepidation. Autumn being my favourite season was tinged with sadness this year, a dear work mate passed away just before Easter; he was only 53 years old and left a wife and three young teenage daughters. How strange that he should end his days at this time, at this season and it precipitated my reflection on my own mortality, my own life which is now in the autumn years.

Members of our office gathered at his funeral to pay our last respects on the day before Good Friday. The service was conducted in a Catholic church and I noticed that the statues of Christ were covered with hessian cloth, a representation of what is hidden, waiting to be revealed, that time of unknowing that proceeds the ultimate sacrifice, that time of death and then transformation. Three robed priests officiated at this rite of passage; standing in a line they seemed some how to mirror the concept of the triple Goddess. Each priest with a part to play in the honouring of a dear departed Soul.

As I sat there on a simple wooden pew a voice within reminded me of this sacred space. This place of divinity, blessed and sanctified; this place where one can seek solace or commune with the Divine; what does it matter the religion, whether it be a Jewish synagogue, a Muslim mosque, a Buddhist or Hindu temple, a Pagan’s circle of stones in a forest grove or a Christian Church? The Divine makes no distinction.

I sat quietly detached from my emotions and observed the energies around me. I noticed the aura of the roses that lay upon the coffin; I perceived my friend’s presence lying silent within, a sense of peace encapsulating his being. While the priests prepared the sacraments for the Holy Communion a song was sung about being carried on an eagle’s wings, and as a prayer was being given by the priest I noticed a spark of light emanate up from his crown chakra to his transpersonal point; he was oblivious to the connection but my heart stirred and I was deeply affected by the presence of the Omnipresent.

It reminded me of my visit to a Hindu temple some years ago where a ceremony celebrating Shiva’s marriage brought about a rush of powerful energy that penetrated my soul and caused great discomfort to my heart chakra.

Here I was again experiencing an awakening, a validation that Spirit does indeed move in mysterious and unexpected ways. The word ‘know’ drifted into my consciousness and for a millisecond I transcended the illusion of my mortality.

Janine
April 8, 2008