Christmas

Today is 1 January. It seems like a strange time to write about Christmas as perhaps it would seem better to write about New Year or the forthcoming festival of the Epiphany. Instead, I chose to write about Christmas a this is the very middle of Christmas. 

Christmas is a festival that lasts only about 12 days or 13 nights. It starts on the eve of the 24th of December and ends at midnight of the fifth of January. January 6 is obviously a different festival, the festival of the Epiphany. In some ways, somewhere between the 31st of December and the first of January is the middle of Christmas. 

I also want to write about silence. Again this may seem like a strange topic as Christmas is the time with family, the time of parties, and silence is something that comes at the end of all these gatherings, when we are tired and want to got to sleep. 

Let us explore the qualities of silence, qualities such as its golden nature, according to the popular saying: "Silence is golden." Can we truly be silent? If we take a moment of solitude, when natures is naturally "silent" and listen carefully, one of the experiences we may have is not of really silence. Deep within in us is a voice with an almost constant commentary. This inner, incessant voice, in a way, overpowers the silence we strive to attain. The silence within does not match the silence without. 

If we look at silence in this way, then we may arrive at another perspective of the gold, that adjective for silence. Gold as we know is the best conductor of warmth. This for me is its real value. Thus, when refer to silence as golden, could it be possible that silence, used in this cliche, is actually a conveyor of warmth?

When we are silent, others may be heard. When we are silent, our entire being is in a sense at rest. We were are silent, the being of another, pours into speech, and makes an impression upon the listener of warmth or coldness. When we are silent, we allow others to share more, not because they speak more, but because we are prepared to listen. When we are genuinely silent, our opinions, judgement, preconceptions, lose their strength. Our openness becomes more evident, and it is this openness that begins to fill with our warmth., ready to embrace the warmth brought by the other who speaks. 

Today, we live in a world full of noise, of movement, of agitation, even during Christmas time. Stillness, silence, is very difficult to achieve for many, including me. For some, it may even have lost its value. Christmas is a time of great silence for us. It allows us to hear the rejoicing of the heavens as the Christ child descends to earth. It allows us to hear the Christ within us who speaks to us daily and perhaps is not often heard. Christmas is a festival marked at both ends by silence. A silence on earth on the night the shepherds heard the angels through a dream (Gospel of Luke). And at the other end, the silence in the world where three wise men pursue a star to the birthplace of the Christ child (Gospel of Matthew). What is it in the heart of the shepherds that allowed them to hear the angels sing? What is it in the heart of the three wise men, that allowed a star in the sky to speak to them of the birth of the Christ child? And more importantly, for modern day man, what will allow our hearts to be silent to hear the Christ within us?

For me, with these questions, lies the wonder that is Christmas. Thirteen nights of silence to listen to humanity sing in chorus with the angels the birth of the Christ child. 

Advent

Happy New Year everyone! Today, 2 December 2012, is the start of the new Christian year. The Christian year begins with Advent. And just like a calendar year, it lasts 12 months although it marks time in a different way. 

Advent covers the four weeks before Christmas. Generally, it is a time of year dominated by bright lights, loud music, and a great rush, at home and at work, as everyone prepares for Christmas. In some ways, Advent is almost like a "lesser storm" before the whirlwind that is modern Christmas. 

Most of us don't even really know what Advent is all about anymore. Advent is almost like an ancient milestone by the roadside; it gives us information about how much further we have to go before we get to the "real" destination, Christmas. Perhaps, when we were younger, our families engaged in activities that allowed us, as children, to count the days before Christmas. 

But what is Advent? If it were such a "minor" festival, why is it a festival at all? And why does it take all of four weeks to prepare? Advent comes from two Latin words" ad meaning "to, toward" in relation to space or time; "with regard to, in relation to," and venire meaning “to come”. Hence Advent may be understood also to mean “toward coming” or “with regard to coming”. Awkward as this may seem in our common day language, these definitions so to speak care with them additional perspectives on the meaning of Advent. Not only does it speak of a coming per se but it speaks of way of looking at his coming. Let us consider the rather awkward definition above of “toward coming”.  One may ask why I opted for this definition as opposed to say, “to come”. This is because “to come” would translate only as venire and not carry the ad- prefix. Obviously there is a reason to have the prefix ad-. I also like the sound of “toward coming” as it carries with an active element. There must be more to Advent then simply “preparation” as the word itself seems to reflect a process, a becoming.

What is the becoming? The obvious answer is Christmas. Then the next question is what is Christmas? I will discuss that in another instalment. Thus, when we remove the obvious answer, we are left with a question that has a less obvious reply: what is becoming?

If we look at Advent as the time to prepare to become, or to move toward coming, this opens us different possibilities for us all. Advent is important. It is important for the completion of our being. It is important that we understand our process of becoming, of becoming human, of becoming that which is truly human. It is a period where we prepare to meet something, someone that is streaming towards from the future. It is about a coming, an event which has yet to occur, that we move forward to meet. Hence Advent is not a static preparation, awaiting a great event; Advent is an active preparation so that we, as human beings, may step out and meet the event to come.

Advent is a thorough preparation across four weeks. In the first week, the physical world is ready. Children’s stories of preparation across this first week are stories of how minerals “step out into the world” facing the future to come. If this was our homes, our first step would be to clean our homes.

In the second week, the plant world is ready. The plants have “stepped out into the world” to face the future to come. In our homes, after tidying the house, we spruce up or buy the special plants for the season.

In the third week, the animal world is ready. The animals have “stepped out into the world” to face the future to come. In our homes, after tidying the house, sprucing up the plants, we prepare our pets. We bathe them, groom them and make them ready.

The fourth week of Advent is about the human being. We prepare ourselves. Are we ready to “step out into the world” to face the future to come?

Advent is not just about waiting for Christ to enter our homes. It is just as much about us stepping out of the doors of our homes, gazing down the path of the future, ready, not just to welcome, but to recognise and invite Christ into our homes. 

Festivals

This morning as I was leaving home, I could not help but notice the large vine that is grown rapidly up our star apple tree. When I mention large, I mean large. One portion of the vine had actually detached from the tree and appears to be growing downward instead of upward. From a distance I could easily imagine it as some sort of aggressive, serpentine beast, something from a nightmare.

Upon closer examination, I could not help but notice some interesting qualities of this plant. The vine itself was a shade of lighter green then expected. It is smooth and tapering. It is also quite firm, not an airy, light construction that could easily be imagined as I watch the vine climb the tree. The leaves were likewise interesting. They are not in a line on the vine but rather are arranged in an alternating radial fashion. The leaves themselves have an interesting element. Where the leave of the stem meets the vine, I could clearly see two darker parts of the leave, on the left and the right side of the stem arising from the vine. These two darker parts are quite stiff and, more interestingly, growth through to vine come out like two spikes on the other side of the vine. This made me realize that these spikes were like extended roots of the leaf, penetrating the vine and connecting to the tree. This allows the vine to creep up the tree, remaining rooted, so to speak, to the bark of the tree.

Two thoughts came to mind with this interesting observations: 1) The tree, in some way, is the "earth"  of the vine as these leaves root themselves in the bark of the tree; 2) the bark of the tree must form part of the earth for the vine to root itself in the tree.

I suppose it would be easy now to understand if this triggered a series of botanical images or thoughts in my mind. Unfortunately, it did not. Instead it triggered some thoughts about festivals and the spiritual connection of human beings with festivals.

Long ago, festivals an essential center of human activity. In a way, humanity appeared to understand that festivals connected them to a larger, more spiritual world that was beyond their very existence on earth. In a way, festivals allowed earthbound human beings to participate in a spiritual activity that transcended their earthly lives. Most if not all festivals allowed humanity to turn its gaze to the heavens, almost as if longing for home.

It is all to easy in modern times to dismiss this behavior as one of a less developed time in human history. Of course this does not explain why even today, humanity continues to turn its gaze to heavens and respects, even without fully knowing and understanding, the timing of festivals.In many ways, modernization, technology, and other scientific developments cannot seem to erase an almost innate aspect of humanity that is moved by something that deeper and truly human.

What is the link between this thought and the vine? And how can the vine trigger such thoughts within me? In a sense the vine is a special image. It is a plant, which like all plants, continues to strive towards the heavens. Unlike a tree with deep roots and strong trunks, a vine literally climbs up to the heavens with the help of any vertical surface. It is a very clear picture of roots that not only nourish but enable the vine to climb. These spike like parts of the leaves that penetrate the vine to cling to the tree actual remind me of humanity's question about festivals and spirituality. Somehow, we must remain grounded and yet soar. Our roots must penetrate the earth and yet drive us upward. In a way festivals, when taken in the right spirit, help build in us this feeling of being both rooted and skyward bound.

Perhaps the real lesson of this story, for me at least, is that everything around me, particularly nature, reminds me, a human being, of a deeper part of my nature, one that is easily forgotten or neglected. That the vine is growing upward, along the trunk of the star apple tree was even more interesting. A star apple tree, a tree that is about human gravity and earthwardness (apple) and about humanity's heavenly nature (star).

It was a most interesting morning.

Michaelmas

On the 29th of September, we celebrated the beginning of the festival of the Archangel Michael. This festival will run for the next four weeks and is the first festival to mark the final quarter of the year. In the Manila Waldorf School, this is a festival of great "challenges" ranging from obstacle courses for the younger kids to more challenging activities for the highschoolers. In essence, there is a strong element of "confrontation" of some "adversity" or "challenge".

Images of Michael are full of these qualities. There is a serpent or dragon that looks sinister in its twisted, slithering appearance. It is usually at the feet of Michael who by contrast is a like a glowing light of serenity, his countenance a reflection of peace and balance. There he stands, just above this serpent, armed in different ways, sword, spear, or some other instrument of death. And yet this traditional scene does not hold any quality of death. Instead, it holds a strong quality of tension. This is a tension that holds and frames the general imagery of Michael and the serpent.

While the general scenery is often outdoors, I have often asked myself, is this really an outdoor setting? In many ways, it is possible to argue that it is. After all, whenever we are outdoors, tension must be present to allow vital processes to occur. Without a steady give and take, for example, growth would not be possible. In this setting, it is easy to imaging Michael and his confrontation with this serpent.

But if this confrontation is not outdoors, it could only mean that it must be elsewhere. If we, for a moment, imagine that this tension were within our very beings, then the entire scene will change in its dimensions and importance. Internally, we have our own serpents. They wend their way through our inner being, seeking that pot of gold, so to speak, that true inner me that it may have the chance to devour it, swallow it whole. And in this inner space, there too must live Michael. He builds warmth within us and brings light in the search for this inner serpent. Within our very beings, this struggle, this tension, this ultimate confrontation, eventually takes place. And then, the scene appears frozen; frozen in time, frozen in space. What next. we inevitably ask.

Perhaps there is a reason that this dynamic scene of Michael and the serpent is frozen in such a manner. Frozen in this way, as we see in paintings, statues, even gin labels; so frozen that there is almost an urge to press it on just to see what happens next. And yet, what happens next is basically up to us.

How will we eventually express this tension? If it remains tension, we will certainly be a bundle of nerves. On the other hand, as this tension passes from our inner selves into the outer world, there is the chance that in this movement from an inner to an outer world, a transformation takes place. Tension is creatively transformed into something we can share in the world outside.

For young kids, there is an energy within that is creating tension. It is an energy that lives and grows as part of their maturing. The transformation of this energy is the boundless energy that allows them to greet the obstacle course that confronts them. It is an active, creative way that allows them to confront this inner tension by converting it into excitement for the obstacle course. As they confront each obstacle, the same question is asked of them. And regardless of how they confront the obstacle, the opportunity for the creative transformation of this inner tension is there.

For those in high school, this inner tension arises from their every growing realization of who they are. They sense it is there even if not clear. Their challenges are more individual , one that involves them not only in confronting their fears, so to speak, but also to transform these into a fear they can show to the world and hold as their own.

Ultimately, it is the ownership of this tension, this fear that each of us have deep within that allows us to celebrate Michaelmas. With Michaelmas, each of us has the chance to literally stand before the reflection of our archetype, Michael and see what each of us are made of, to see who we truly are. This understanding of who we are is important in light of the next festival, Advent, the preparation for Christmas as we need to confront the question: Do we have room within our inner "inns"  for the Christ child who will be coming.

Let us creatively transform this tension then into the source of inner metamorphoses and strength for each of us to be who we are.

Thinking

In this modern age, it is not unusual to associate thinking with a mental activity that creates ideas. It is, I suppose in a certain sense, one of the most strenuous human activities that can be undertaken. Even when we may not appear physically active, it is not unusual to feel exhausted after thinking. But what is thinking really? What actually transpires when we think? Not easy questions for sure but let us try to imagine what happens when we think.

Whenever I have to think, I used to believe that in my head, some phenomena occurred that resulted in thought. And somehow, I could “see” that thought as a result. This would then lead me to do whatever it is that I did. As I grew older and began to learn about anthroposophy, I began to observe what actually took place when I was thinking. At first it was difficult to imagine this as I thought it was instantaneous. In many ways it is, and in other ways, it was actually observable. What I began to observe and understand was thinking involved life experiences. As my life experiences grew, it was like my thinking grew as well. I was not necessarily smarter than before; but my connections to these life experiences grew stronger in some cases and weaker in others. I could now see that when I had to think or really apply myself to thinking that it was like there was a whole array of life experiences that flashed before my eyes and by linking them, I found out that idea or thoughts were born. This observation, combined with what I had studied and continue to study in anthroposophy, led to an interesting conclusion. Thinking is not about intelligence per se but about like experiences. Since the life experiences occurred in the world, then thinking was about a connection (my life) with the world (experiences).  In a sense, if feeling, as mentioned in my previous post, is about how I experienced the world, thinking then was about how I connected to the world or as various literature of anthroposophy puts it, I make the world mine.

We are flooded with experiences in our daily lives. Sometimes these experiences may be intense; at other times they are almost imperceptible. But they are there. Not all of these experiences may be significant, while others, we cannot do without. And yet, that is all they are: experiences. Somehow, even if the experience is our own, there is a need to internalize or embrace the experience, so to speak, and make it our own. Unless an experience is our own, then it just remains that, an experience.

I noticed that this would happen particularly when I am asked a question that is new to me. I realized that in my mind, there would flash a wide array of experiences. Imagine a blank wall suddenly filled with images of various experiences; all the images change rapidly and then, a composite image of what I need to answer the question forms before me. It is as if by flipping through all those experiences very rapidly, a common thread was found to link several of them together thus bringing forth the answer. Each image that is presented is an experience that I not only had, sometimes it is not even well remembered, but for some reason, I have a clear connection to it, a connection that makes it my own.

From this perspective, I suppose one can say that thinking is about making the world one’s own. With this realization, it then becomes possible to imagine that I do belong to the world as well, not just to its material aspects, but also to those less visible and yet experienced.  It is through thinking that we take and transform our daily experiences into a part of us, a part of who we are, a part of what we need to achieve in this world.

Sources: The Study of Man by Rudolf Steiner.

Feeling

Feeling is a different level of movement within the astral body. If will is movement that is visible and perceptible in the outer world, then one can look at feeling as a movement in our inner world or inner life. Feeling is much more than an emotion or a sensation; it is a whole body of experience that we generally perceive within ourselves. While it is true we may reveal our feelings externally, it remains but a portion of the entire feeling activity that we experience and that happens.

This opens an interesting perspective on the nature of the astral body. On the one hand, will is what is generally perceptible in the physical material world, then it speaks of a particular relationship that the astral within us has with the external world. On the other hand, if feeling relates to the experiences within our inner world, so to speak, then it will speak about a particular relationship we have with the non-material world but with an experiential world that lives within. Thus, in a certain sense, our astral body has something to do about our relationship with both the external, material world as well as an inner experiential world. As this relationship is rightful always in movement, our astral body, for its own general well-being, will seek a harmonious balance between that which is without (the physical, material world) and that which lies within (our inner, experiential world).

Let us then put forth an imagination that willing is how the astral expresses itself in the physical world and feeling is how the material world expresses itself in the astral. With this picture, feeling life is about how we experience the world. Willing is how we transform that experience into the physical world. 

Of course we have will activities that will happen naturally or instinctively. These are will activities that arise from the material world. These are not willed from within but rather from that which surrounds us. On the other hand, we may argue that we have a feeling life that also “simply arises” or experiences. Then, in like manner, this feeling life must be moved or molded by our inner, non-material, non-physical world of experiences. For those will and feeling activities that we bring about consciously, then something more is at play than simply the material world or the experience world. 

More can be said about the feeling life. However, it is like a minefield fully of strong connotations. It is a widely active life with movement from extremes to movements of precise inner balance. When we listen to our feeling life, we will begin to sense this to be so.

So far, in the astral body, we have a form of movement; will where we express ourselves in the material world. We have a form of movement, feeling where we take the physical world and express it within in us as an experience. The obvious question therefore is how to make this wealth of experiences our own. To answer that, we will come to the third movement of our astral body: thinking.

Sources: The Study of Man by Rudolf Steiner.

Willing

The human being as described has four bodies or sheath: the physical, the etheric, the astral and the soul. The astral is the body of movement of which there are a number of different movements. This short essay and the two that will follow will describe and share a perspective on the three general type of movement that finds their home in the astral body.

The first type of movement is one that we are all very familiar with. It is generally called: will. If we do a quick internet type research on the origin of the word will, we find that it has meanings that imply choice and also imply wish. Will, even as we understand it today, continues to carry this in the background although some of us choose to ignore that choice and wish may be connected to the meaning of will. 

In the human being, there are at least two types of will: conscious will (clearly if you want to make a choice and you wish to achieve something) and unconscious will. Unconscious will means will activities wherein we do not make a choice. The digestion of our food, for example, is a type of will activity that we do not choose or decide on what actually happens. I cannot, for example tell my stomach to digest the apple first before the chicken both of which I ate. In fact, if we were caught up in this willing, we would be unable to think of anything else. Imagine a situation where we would have to will our muscles to contract, then relax, then contract, then relax, just to walk! It is clearly in our best interest, therefore, that some aspects of will better left unseen or unnoticed.

On the other hand, there are will activities, such as typing this blog, that require conscious effort. The physical act of typing is not one of those. The willing for which key on the keyboard to strike for example, or how to spell words correctly and type them correctly is not something I do consciously. This will activity is moved by the memory that lives in a way in my finders and my arms that translate what I am thinking into this text. However, to create the content of this blog, even before it appears in electronic form, required will on my part. To build the argument, think it through, and imagine how I would like to say it was deliberately willed on my part. I choose to write this blog with the wish to share with others, some of the thoughts that come to mind having read various works of Rudolf Steiner. Unlike the actual typing activity, the creation of this blog, consciously willed, required a very specific type of movement. The movement may not have been visible outside of me but something was “moving” within me. 

When I play a game, for example, there are movements that may be called schooled: memory was developed and ingrained into my muscle mass so that my legs and arms would know what to do. This frees me up to strategize what I am going to do during the game. If I had to think about where to move and how to move during the game, I would spend a greater deal of time on this then actually planning my game. 

Effectively, for those will activities that flow from memory, even if I create the memory, requires a close collaboration with the etheric body. As we know, the etheric body has a very specific type of movement: it’s rhythmical. As a consequence, repetitive activities that stream from memory arise in collaboration with the etheric. On the other hand, will activities that arise from choices and hopes within me, take on a different nature. It is ultimately this wish for a specific result, in other words, this wish to create a future that differentiates conscious wiling from unconscious willing.  

Will is about the activities in our lives. Some we are unconscious to; others, we do consciously. The real challenge to us all is: are we doing the conscious ones consciously and the unconscious ones unconsciously? Can we even tell the difference? To succeed in telling the difference would me to understand the nature of will.

Sources: The Study of Man by Rudolf Steiner.