Just in, this text, from my (ex) daughter-in-law Sue, in Rome for the week with grandson Drew:
We did end up seeing the Vatican. It’s the picture of excess.
Well, uh . . . DUH!
So, it feel it’s only fitting that, as we head into tomorrow’s supreme Christian holiday, I do another post on the pagan origins of Easter. Here are two posts from 2017: The first one tells the story I was going to tell here. Glad that’s out of the way!
That second post contains the perfect meme:
But let’s back up to this past midweek, April 14, when the roof of Notre Dame, vaulted 800 years ago, of 23 acres of old growth oak trees, burned. The ceiling blew off that storied, stolid, stone edifice that took 200 years to build, and ever since, despite other renovations, has graced the heart of Paris and contained irreplaceable treasures of European Christian civilization. And while we might see the fire as a sign that the goddess cannot be contained, especially now that Chiron (the wound) has moved into fiery Aries —
Thanks to commentator Kieron, who pointed us to this insight:
The above observations are well-considered, given that Notre Dame, like most Christian edifices, was built upon an old pagan site, it’s no wonder pagans might have rejoiced. However, they did not. Instead, they were ambivalent.
Here’s a perspective that is now making the rounds. Notice the polarized, impassioned responses.
To these, I couldn’t help but respond myself:
Here we go again, faced with yes and no, off and on, black and white, and forced, if we dare to expand, to include both without wavering!
I suggest that this Easter, we realize that Death is always followed by Resurrection, new life. If you live in the northern hemisphere, then get off your screen and go outside, sniff the air, plant your bare feet in the squishy ground, watch the plants shoot up from the very pregnant below, feeding upon the dead remains of past years, sun-kissed aliveness pulsing blossoms into magnificent geometric forms. Hear the birds sing, rejoicing, calling to each other as they build their nests, safe harbors for tiny eggs to start the cycle of their life all over again..
Eggs. Easter eggs! Easter bunny! Oestre! Esther! Estrus! Happy Easter!
While awareness is unitary, and breathing, one consciousness playing around with matter, moving into and out of separate forms — yep, here we go again, enjoying/enduring yet another paradox, that of Being and Becoming, another great integration of the opposites that, if we live long enough and fully enough, we do begin to both honor and embrace.