Dear reader, please note that this week’s offering is especially intended to be listened to rather than read, although I welcome you to take in these words in whatever form is most accessible. This reflection and meditation have been somewhat modified since their original sharing here.
Welcome. I invite you to join me in a reflection and guided meditation as we approach the winter solstice and near the end of the Advent season. In the northern hemisphere, Advent coincides with the approach of winter and the retreat of light as the North Pole of the Earth tilts away from the life-giving warmth of the Sun. Night bleeds into day like ink in water. We lament the growing dark and cold, which force our inward retreat. But winter is a necessary and magical season of subterranean gestation.
There is an invitation in Advent, as in winter, for us to turn inward and to seek the warm glow within. But in our world of binaries, we tend to seek the light and suppress the darkness–to lament the night, which we have grown to fear. The observance of Advent often carries such messaging: cursing the darkness that blankets the world, that shrouds our hearts in fearful separation– and anxiously awaiting the arrival of that singular Light, born into the world as the Christ child, from whom all illumination emanates.
But I wonder what it would be like to involve ourselves a bit more directly in the retelling of this ancient tale? What if we were to step into this story ourselves, rather than merely look on as bystanders? What if this was always meant to be the case?
In his book Meditations with Meister Eckhart, theologian Matthew Fox relays these profound questions for eternal reflection:
“What good is it to me if this eternal birth of the divine Son takes place unceasingly but does not take place within myself? And, what good is it to me if Mary is full of grace if I am not also full of grace? What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to their Son if I do not also give birth to him in my time and my culture? This, then, is the fullness of time: When the Son of God is begotten in us.”
And herein lies my invitation to you. In this season of Advent, can you imagine yourself as Mary the Godbearer, pregnant with the Light of the world, gestating the limitless Love of God? As we are all made in the likeness of our limitless Creator, so too does each of us have the capacity to gestate and create, to be fertile and to bring forth goodness. So I invite you now into a moment of stillness as we connect with the Godbearer within ourselves.
Finding a comfortable position, however you are able, take a moment to close your eyes and come into awareness of your body. If you are seated, feel yourself supported by the chair, both feet planted on the ground. If you are lying down, feel the length of your body being fully held, and relaxing into this support. And as you come into this awareness, I invite you to give gentle attention to your breath, breathing in whatever way feels easy and natural for you.
As you continue to breathe at your own comfortable pace, I invite you to imagine yourself standing in a vast open field. You are surrounded on all sides by tall, silky grass that is softly rippling in waves as a calm breeze blows through. It is night, and the inky black sky is full of twinkling stars. Up ahead of you in the distance, you see a grove of trees whose leafy branches are softly dancing in the night air. In the middle of the grove, you notice one tree that is much larger than the others, raised up on a small, grassy hill. Before you realize it, you find yourself moving towards this tree, drawn in by its comforting presence which seems to call out directly to your heart. As you approach, you feel the silken threads of grass caressing your legs and feet, as you reach out to brush the tops of the blades with your hands as you move through this soft green sea.
You soon arrive at the base of this Mother tree and sense its sacredness. Climbing the hill with ease, you place your hand on the bark in greeting and recognition, feeling the invisible but undeniable flow of Life within. You settle in, sitting at the base of the tree, and feel your back supported by the strong, ancient trunk. The gentle night breeze continues to softly rustle the canopy of leaves above, causing some of them to fall and twirl around you– and you breathe in, drinking deeply of this pristine, precious air. As you fill your lungs, your fingers begin to wander and trace the web of gnarled roots emanating from the tree and diving deep underground. The rich, cool soil feels alive beneath your fingertips, and you begin to imagine the vast networks of life moving below the surface. What hidden seeds lie buried in wait in the depths of your being? What unseen constellations map the contours of the divine darkness within? Can you sense them, holding the unknown with the warmth and intimacy of security and trust?
This primordial darkness, the very ground of being, is made fertile through decomposition and decay. As we enter astronomical winter, consider the areas of your life that are asking to be released for rest or transformation as the rhythm of nature invites us to withdraw for hibernation and renewal. This inward season offers us the space to reflect on that which we want to carry with us into the new year, and what we wish to release to become part of the fertile soil. The mysteries of gestation and germination occur in realms unseen, much like the dark waters of the womb. We do not yet know what fruits the divine darkness will bring forth, but we can trust that it will…
As you continue to breathe, you notice a growing sensation of Light in the womb of your heart. With each new breath it grows, filling your being. This is the Light and the Love of the Divine Presence, growing and gestating within you, awaiting its time to be birthed into the world by you. You realize that you are both the Godbearer and an earthly emanation of God waiting to be born. How does it feel to carry this Presence, and to be this Presence? Do you feel a sweet expectancy? An electric anticipation? What does it mean for you to be both Mary and the Christ-light? How will you nurture this growing light? What tender attention will you offer it? How will you prepare the way for its birth?
I invite you to continue returning to the questions in this meditation as we near the end of the Advent season. What fruitfulness awaits us as we rest and wait in the fertile darkness? How can we be as Mary in this season and all seasons– full of grace and willing to bring forth the Light of Divine Presence into the world? May you be filled with patience, trust, and deep presence as you immerse in the fruitful darkness and await the birth of the Light. May you bear precious fruits for a hungry world. Thank you for joining me.
Beautiful reflections.