EASTER MIRACLES by Antara

Easter - wow, what a strange trip it was. It was mostly gray like the day, a lil' dim, a lil' murky. It matched perfectly the dark-day troubles for some relatives of mine that I’m concerned about and certainly for the family of man.

About noon, I sat with my 90 year old mom to watch Catholic mass in Washington DC on tv since she couldn’t attend church.  I chose to just be present with the energies, witness to the pomp and ritual and my mom sitting on the edge of her chair. My little catholic girl self is moved and awestruck by the grandiosity of this vast marble palace where so many priests are bowing and kissing a golden bible with orchestral accompaniment , incense and holy water.  I'm struck by the man wearing golden robes and who walks with a golden staff and high pointed hat talk of the singular miracle that is still rippling through the universes mixed with his own prayers for those who suffer abuse from priests.

Wanting to keep my Mother-Theresa-Momma happy when the Mass was over, I searched around and found  Pope Benedict live in Rome. Thousands stood in the rain cheering. He appeared ill, lackluster, bored as he read greetings in different languages.  I wondered about the general funk in the air, that strange mixture of pain, suffering, prayers, and faith, even when the leaders fail you. And then slowly a wave of love for humanity arose within me – look how we can stand in the downpour and still cheer, still be happy just to be in the presence, and to be surrounded with so many who are also keeping the faith. Strange how the healing was coming from the gathered presence of the people, always beautiful to behold.  It’s this quality of humanity that moves me the most.

It reminded me of the overwhelming happiness generated from the crowds at Inaugeration day for Obama. Yes, there was a figure who was representing, but the healing came from the people themselves who allowed the flowing of love and HUGE faith that goodness and miracles are possible, and yes, they are coming. And the feeling that came from standing in that soup of goodness was why the truest of miracles and transformations was happening in the hearts of all who were present. It was coming from US, not the man on the stage.

Even still, on this holy of holy days for so many, I was a bit melancholy. Then later in the day kindness showed up. My daughter told me how she had gone to visit the parents of her deceased best friend on this day, the anniversary of his tragic death.  She’d shopped for them, made dinner, and cleaned up the small dingy home, crowded with mess and sorrow.  They smiled for the first time in 2 years they said. The funk was lifting the father said to my daughter as she drove them around on errands earlier in the day, for they have no car.  She had arrived there with her own heavy heart but came away lifted, enjoying the smiles that she had given them.   In the giving and compassion came her own healing. On this Easter day, a true death anniversary for her that she had dreaded so much, she became lighter. She made others lighter.  Miracles great and small.  The thing was, they had invited HER over, so who gave the miracle to whom? 

Nevertheless, on this gray rainy day, my heart was witness to light rippling through in many ways.  Like a rope thrown to the drowning man- MIRACLES from faith, from a love beyond our knowing, beyond personalities. I stood still and witness to the light rippling through all around me even though I never left home. Through all the huge sorrows and tragedies and shaking fears, we together are far more than that for each other, we are each others miracles all the time.  Our capacity to heal boggles the mind.

Love, Antara

April 5, 2010