Remember last year at this time? When those of us of a certain political persuasion were wringing our hands and knitting our pussy hats? I remember a delicious surge of focused intention to gather together, circle the wagons of faith we still harbored in our country and begin the hard work of community building in a way that we had not done before. Many of us—of a political persuasion—were still in shock from the final polls, and thus being, felt powerless. We knew what was going to happen on January 20th and we didn’t like it.
Over the last year, I did pretty well circling the wagons of my tribe and tuning out the on-going stream of non-truths from the Mad King. I also did fairly well gathering in community for support, with healthy doses of dancing and perusing my art, writing, while functioning just under the radar of rants and reactions.
I did well until I didn’t. And then I broke.
My breaking point happened pretty far into the year, amazingly. It was the removal of protection of Bears Ear National Monument. For whatever reason, this particular abuse of power by the executive branch reached into my chest and tore my heart apart, which left a vacuous opening for all of the other misuses to rear their ugly heads and take form in my psyche, things I had essentially ignored over the year.
So on this day of Epiphany (January 6th for us but also celebrated on other days in other parts of the world), a day that is recognized as one where the Magi trotted along the desert banks with the word “Messiah” on their thin lips, I am wondering where have all of the wise men gone? What about the wise women? How did we do, in 2017, working together?
The word epiphany also means “a sudden perception of the essential nature or meaning of something.” Many years ago, long before I commenced my deliberate study of Shamanism, I had what one would call a vision—a kind of epiphany—although it did not involve angels descending with trumpets or a gleaming white Pegasus carrying the secrets of the universe. No, it was what I would now refer to as a “download,” and was simply a message from beyond. Because I was very young, this is a paraphrased version, and went something like this:
“The 2nd coming of Jesus will not be a man in sandals. Jesus, the man, was simply a vehicle for Christ Consciousness. Next time, it will be a collective waking-up. The 2nd coming will not be a man, but a movement.”
How long do you think it will take for us to comprehend the extent of this supposition? If we believed it, and I do, how hard will it be for ALL OF US, no matter your political persuasion, to go cold-turkey on the fear porn of our times and contemplate, possibly for the first time in our young history as a country, the possibility of a truly United States?
Gather In Love or Isolate in Fear. We all have a choice.
May you make the one in 2018 that is an epiphany.