photo: Third Eye Visionaries
Beltane, a Celtic holiday is opportunity to Celebrate your Inner Power as Creative and Luminous Light! Beltane is said to translate as "radiant fire." It is the half-way mark between the Spring Equinox and the Summer Solstice and as such honors the warmth and glory of the Sun. It is celebrated on this day, the first day of May. The true astrological mid-point, however, generally falls between now and May 9.
Also known as May Day, Beltane worships the goddess, the Earth and the fertility of Creation.
In Celtic Mythology Brigid, goddess of Fire, was born at the exact moment of daybreak and rose into the sky with the sun, beams of light pouring forth from her hands. Brigid offers a message of empowerment: to stand in your truth and speak from your heart; to manifest your Dreams!
Today, on this glorious Spring day, allow new life to begin—renewed from within you. Set an intention to manifest something extraordinary this summer and energize the next 9 days with the light of your Inner Power. In other words, allow it to happen through the Grace of balanced Effort and Surrender.
You already embody illuminate Beauty and Creative Fire. It is time to let it Shine.
In Love and Radiant Light,
An ill-fated spider-creepy crawls up the shower wall as I splish-splash in the drip-drops.
I spy him with a startle and uneasily wish he had chosen some different location to browse around this life. But as I watch him, I begin to root for his safety.
He isn’t exactly the “itsy bitsy spider” of nursery rhyme fame, and so I’m skiddish about picking him up and transferring him to drier ground. And anyway, he is quickly gaining elevation away from the perils of the shower spray. Yay!
It isn’t everyday that I would cheer for a spider.
But today, having just arrived home after teaching for 5 weeks in Central America, my awareness has shifted around insects. In the Caribbean mangroves and tropical jungles, bugs teem encroaching and there is nothing that can be done. Roaches, ants, mosquitoes, spiders, flies, scorpions, moths..... there in the thick of it, its impossible to kill every imposing nuisance that threatens to bite, sting, or spread disease.
And so, I let them be. That’s right: if they weren’t directly set in a crash course towards my mouth, eyes, or skin they were allowed to co-exist in the world right beside me.
And that is when it happened—a shift, I mean. I started to see them for who they are: these tiny creatures with short little lives, not much smaller than my own. In fact, somewhere someone might as well be peering down at me and thinking, “Oh, what an incorrigible pest!”
Even the mosquitoes (and I have truly HATED mosquitoes) began to take the novel shape of something that is actually alive. Something that strives for its safety. I guess I have known on some deep level that insects are sentient beings worthy of ahimsa (non-harming); but if a mosquito bites, my hand strikes. It is like an automatic response. And how interesting, really, that my instinct is so violent:
KILL that thing that has violated me and disrupted my peaceful star gazing, or book reading, or meditation practice. KILL. KILL. KILL!
Is it really worth such atrocious revenge?
The Bible says, “an eye for an eye;”
not “a life for a tiny little itchy spot that will go away in about 48 hours.”
And by the time I smash its bloody corpse across my skin, the damage has already been done. I have already been stung. Satisfaction is merely fleeting from such an arguably inordinate vindication. I am left with not only an itchy bump, but also an icky slump from having killed a living thing.
After all, a mosquito IS a living thing. It may not have any Earthly value OTHER than its life.
And although that fact barely seems like a strong enough appeal, I know that there are no mistakes under the sun. I can love the mosquito for being such a crucial part of the food chain.
I can love them?
I CAN love them!
And thanks to my mountain hOMe-base, most of the time I can love them from a distance.
Back in the shower, something tragic happens. The spider slips unexpectedly and falls to its watery doom. I am left standing over the drain, Dr. Bronners in hand, feeling a little sorry that I hadn’t turned off the water; grabbed a dab of toilet paper, and moved him to the safety of my courtyard.