I awoke this morning thinking of end of the year rituals. In Unity the one’s I think of the most are the Christmas Candlelighting and the Burning Bowl. There was a time when we tended to dismiss them altogether or at most lessen their importance.
But to keep the Spiral healthy in our lives we need to go back and assess whether rituals can continue to serve us, and rituals are characteristics of healthy PURPLE consciousness. They tend to call to mind the things that served us well in our ongoing evolution.
I attended the Christmas Candlelight service and felt the power of collective observance It reminded me that divinity is inherent in each individual. It allowed me to also remember that we first become aware of that divinity as a birth and that we grow into our knowledge of it as we continue to grow and develop in our spiritual lives.
The newborn child does not immediately feel guilt because he or she is not already full grown but goes the process of becoming. We, too can honor the process within us that will allow us to focus on where we are now but reminding ourselves that there is “more” to come.
I am reminded of James Dillett Freeman’s poem “More.”
But to keep the Spiral healthy in our lives we need to go back and assess whether rituals can continue to serve us, and rituals are characteristics of healthy PURPLE consciousness. They tend to call to mind the things that served us well in our ongoing evolution.
I attended the Christmas Candlelight service and felt the power of collective observance It reminded me that divinity is inherent in each individual. It allowed me to also remember that we first become aware of that divinity as a birth and that we grow into our knowledge of it as we continue to grow and develop in our spiritual lives.
The newborn child does not immediately feel guilt because he or she is not already full grown but goes the process of becoming. We, too can honor the process within us that will allow us to focus on where we are now but reminding ourselves that there is “more” to come.
I am reminded of James Dillett Freeman’s poem “More.”
By looking at an acorn
Small and hard and plain
Could I conceive of oak trees
By listening to the rain
Could I imagine oceans
Or could I understand the desert
If I held a single grain of sand
Then let me never think
That what I chance to see
This face, this frame, these thoughts
That this is all of me
Yet more than ageless oaks
Or seas that have no shore
In me there also is yet more yet more.
Small and hard and plain
Could I conceive of oak trees
By listening to the rain
Could I imagine oceans
Or could I understand the desert
If I held a single grain of sand
Then let me never think
That what I chance to see
This face, this frame, these thoughts
That this is all of me
Yet more than ageless oaks
Or seas that have no shore
In me there also is yet more yet more.
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