Easter 2020

    It is the powerful voice of the elements, and the thrill of birdsong that fills the springtime air.
 

  Easter is represented as the barefoot gardener at sunrise, bringing the forces of re-brith, of new life to the world.
     Easter is the huge, universal celebration of the Creator that has entered the world of non-spirit and gone through the dark trials of death, emerging unscathed and victorious.
     And Easter is the small, tender sprouts of greenery and fragrant blossoms that sparkle in the grass, trusting in the power of life that they may thrive.
     Easter is flight of the joyous butterfly that emerges in winged freedom from the narrow confines of the cocoon and dances upon the air.
 
  And in our hearts, Easter is the very quiet beginning of self-knowing, as we learn ever more to trust the wisdom of life. It is the path that we walk as we learn to celebrate the beauty of the world, even as we release our attachments to the things that bind us to the unnecessary distractions of life.
     Easter is the love we find, steadfast and unwavering, ferocious and yet infinitely tender.

     For me, Easter lives on the edge of existentialism and faith. To understand it, I have to find my way to the very core of self. That place is awe-some, fearful, beautiful. I have to awaken inside myself; I have to get to know what I am when I have silenced my body, my desires, my thoughts and feelings, my memories, my sense impressions. When all this falls away, there remains a core of me that shudders on the knife edge between being and non-being. Throughout my life, it is watching and listening and growing through this immersion in matter in life, this path towards freedom.
     The very existence of this self-awareness is a gift. It is a glass that I must daily polish, to become so clear and pure that I can see the Creator in it more clearly than I see myself. That is to say: my job is to polish the glass. Then the glass will do what it does best: it will reveal to me what really is.
     And in its shining, I can see that the infinite narrative of this story of Creation.
     It is Love.
     The Creator loves us so much that we are linked forever with its story, its journey into this world, its journey through death, its forever-ness.
     I know that every bit of my becoming is dependent on me discovering how we are connected with the Creator, with one another.
     The Creator thinks into me. It speaks through me. It moves in me, in all I do. It becomes aware of its own self anew, through me.
     Easter Sunrise happens, especially when we pay attention.

May our hearts feel the sunrise in ourselves, and allow it to kindle the power of love within us.