Feathers

One year I brought home a Christ­mas tree but it was too late to put it up, so I left it tied onto the top of my car. The next morn­ing I came out to find a long boa of white feath­ers wound through the branch­es. Con­vinced it was angels who put it there, I saved it, wind­ing it through the branch­es of every Christ­mas tree thereafter.

All this to say there is grace in life, mer­cy in it, if we allow it to unfold with­in our lives. After all, it is we at bot­tom who are these imag­ined trees — trees of Self. We dec­o­rate them with lights and mag­i­cal orna­ments to remind us of the mag­ic with­in, putting a star or an angel at the top for good mea­sure. We stand back to gaze at the beau­ty. And what beau­ty is it that we see?

Oh, sure, there’s all kinds of Chris­t­ian and pagan myth here, the deep­er arche­types revealed in the sym­bol­ic nature of trees, lights, sol­stice, and our cer­e­monies about them. Even the cer­e­mo­ny of con­sump­tion from a cer­tain angle reflects the need we have to feel the gifts flow­ing from Self, from Source. 

As Nick at Life 2.0 points out, every­day can be a kind of Christ­mas if the rebirth of uncon­di­tion­al love is con­stant­ly cel­e­brat­ed in the way we live our lives. As for me, I owe my life to a Guardian Angel or two…leaving me a feath­er boa.

Best of the sea­son and many good wish­es to all for a fab­u­lous 2007. 

I hold your jour­ney in the Light.

Dan

Technorati Tags: Angels and Christmas