This morning when I woke up I wanted to write about Epiphany, the season, rather than the day. I was reflecting on how fast we can feel our days move, how subtly, before we know it, the consumer and consuming pulse affects our rhythm. Our pace quickens.
The seasons of the church year can become a way to heal that hectic pacing. We can recollect Christmas and Easter and Epiphany as more than single days, over before they have time to settle deeply within us. We can receive each as a spacious, unfolding, a long immersion in the upheld gift of the season’s name day.
I love the season of Epiphany. I see the wisemen slowly wending through the night with the star ahead. I also imagine their homeward journey, the star behind them, the bony camel shanks disappearing inelegantly into the darkness. I see the bright star, as its light guides them forward. I see it too as it rests on them blessing their return to the place from which they began, perhaps knowing it, as T.S. Eliot says, “for the first time”.
This morning my day was lit by Maya’s delight in the sunrise. “Look Mama”, she said, “pink is falling down from the sky”. And her Mama, told me.
Pink is falling down from the morning sky. This epiphany, this re-visioning of the morning, this breaking open of habitual sight. opened a room in me and beckoned me in. And I am beckoning you.
l love the large epiphany story but equally, I relish the small tea light epiphanies that are lit throughout the days that follow. I treasure them, especially when the day’s news becomes too dark to admit a more extravagant light.
Riches within riches . . . on February 2nd we can celebrate Candlemas or The Feast of the Presentation, the feast of St. Brigid or in the Northern Hemisphere the Celtic festival of Imbolic. (In the southern hemisphere Imbolic is August 1st).
The elders Simeon and Anna are our hosts at the Presentation and you can read an earlier reflection on the wisdom of these two beloved wise ones here. You’ll also find a guided practice of lectio divina.
A good read for receiving warming up your epiphany senses is one I’m reading now, Katherine May’s Enchantment: Awakening Wonder in an Anxious Age.
I’m imagining you now, noticing the tea light moments in your days, with wonder, living the season slowly.
I’m always glad if you respond or share with a friend. Let’s keep the tiny lights going ~