According to Leonard Nimoy, the Vulcan blessing “Live Long and Prosper,” made famous by Mr. Spock on the original Star Trek series, was inspired by the traditional hand gesture of the Kohanim during the Priestly Blessing.

The text of the blessing is as follows:

May the Lord bless you and guard you
May the Lord shine His countenance toward you and be gracious to you
May the Lord lift up His countenance toward you and give you peace

Nimoy describes the process leading to his inspiration on this video. He states that the gesture is said to represent the Hebrew letter Shin, and may have its origins in Kabbalistic teachings. (Thanks to both Michael Rivero and DesertPeace for posts bringing this to my attention.)

On the Tree of Life, Shin is associated with the 31st Path. The Sefer Yetzirah, or Book of Creation, tells us:

The Thirty-first path is named The Continuous Intelligence. Why is it called this? Because it directs the path of sun and moon according to their laws of nature, each one in its proper orbit.

Shin is associated with peace and serenity as well as the natural changes in the yearly cycle. Its number is 300 which, in the system of Gematria, is also the value of the phrase “The Spirit of God.”

In essence, the Vulcan greeting affirms that, while time marches on, the universe maintains its natural rhythms, bestowing peace and order for the inhabitants of the planet.

That is, until the inhabitants of the planet act in ways that are disharmonious with the divine spirit in nature, i.e. polluting on a grand scale, starting wars, etc.

Perhaps, in this time of chaos and uncertainty, we should adopt the greeting of the Vulcans to remind ourselves and each other that we all contain a bit of the divine spark of the Spirit of God.

My wish for you as we begin 2008 is, Live Long and Prosper.

Technorati Tags: Leonard Nimoy, Mr. Spock, Star Trek, Priestly Blessing, Shin, Live Long and Prosper, Kabbalah, Gematria, Ritual

As I was leaving the event, I was approached by another attendee who, in the course of conversation, referred to me as a “lightworker.” It took me aback, as that is not a term I would ever use to describe myself. As a Scorpio with 4 other celestial bodies inhabiting that sign, I feel like I have a much more intimate relationship with the dark. This is confirmed by the Persephone style head line found on my hands, the mark of one who travels regularly to the depths to mine information.

Many of the people I meet in the spiritual community focus strongly on working with “light” and ignore or impugn its counterpart. We live in a dualistic world. Without knowledge and understanding of the dark, we cannot even begin to know the light.

Being a longtime student of the Kabbalah (one is always a student when it comes to the great mysteries), I find it essential to look at the dualities and try to come to some understanding of the balance between them. The Tree of Life is a wonderful diagram for working with the balance of the opposites. The Tree contains everything that exists in the universe and is in perfect harmony. If one pillar or one sphere were to be overly emphasized, or removed all together, the Tree would fall over.

Let’s look at an example. The orange sphere, Hod, represents language, linear thought, and rational analysis. The opposite sphere, Netzach, which is green on the diagram, represents passion, lust and the instinctual forces of nature. What could be less rational? Astrologically they are represented by Mercury (Hod) and Venus (Netzach).

Without its feeling counterpart, the intellect of Hod is just a thinking machine: cold, calculating and calloused. It becomes unable to hear the voice within because it is beyond logic. On the other hand, the emotions of Netzach are not meant to be discriminating. Without the balance of the mind, there is chaos and sentimentality, and the potential to fall prey to abuse or superstition.

Thinking Kabbalistically, I find it difficult to celebrate the return of the light at Winter Solstice without an equal honoring of the gifts found in the darkness. What better time than that of the longest night of the year to be thankful for those gifts.

To describe these gifts, I will share with you parts of a meditation that I wrote for the Winter Solstice of 1999. When the ritual began there were seven candles lit, one for each of the four directions, one each for the masculine and feminine aspects of divinity, and one to represent the light of pure spirit, the center of all things. As I named each of the gifts of darkness, I extinguished one of the candles, until all participants were enveloped in complete darkness. After a short period of silence in order to give thanks for those gifts, I relit the candles to symbolize the return of the light.

Here is that part of my guided meditation with added commentary:

Only in darkness can the seed sprout and begin its journey toward becoming. Your seed is safe in the darkness of the soil. Even now it is taking root.

The dark time is the time of hibernation for trees, plants and even some animals. Think of the bulbs that come up every spring. Without that period of winter sleep, they would not return to bring beauty to the world. Even the bulbs that we force to bloom indoors have to spend some time in a dark, cool closet in order to brighten our living rooms.

Ideas are much the same. They need time to incubate before they can take root.

It is in the darkness of sleep that we are visited by dreams. Trust in the power of your dreams.

The dreams that visit us in the dead of night are much different than those we create in the light of day. When we sleep, our unconscious minds can access symbols and pictures that we would never choose when conscious. Mind you, darkness is not entirely necessary for sleep, but it makes it so much easier.

In the darkness of the earth we find silence. Only in silence can we hear the wisdom that has always been and will always be. Listen to the darkness and heed its counsel.

With several storms having passed through the Pacific Northwest these past weeks, we lost power on two separate occasions. When the lights went out, so did the hum of the electricity. Until it’s gone, one doesn’t notice how loud it is. Despite being a little bit cold, I was in heaven. The silence was glorious. Without the electromagnetic interference, I could hear the real and natural sounds of life all around. I could hear myself communing with the heavens. I highly recommend that level of quiet.

In darkness we find rest. In rest there is healing. In healing there is the promise of wholeness.

It’s no secret that the body regenerates itself during sleep. It has been reported that bright lights and loud music have been utilized as torture methods to induce sleep deprivation. To me, darkness and silence go hand in hand. True, deep, healing sleep requires both.

Only by knowing darkness can we recognize the light. Without darkness there can be no illumination, no inspiration.

It is when we are most confused or stuck that the illumination of the AHA! moment, the lightbulb over the head, brings joy. Without the stagnation, we might not even recognize the flash of genius for what it is.

In darkness time moves in its own natural rhythm. Tomorrows blend with yesterdays, a universal present moment does not exist. Let go of the ticking of the manmade clock. Let the natural movements of time hold you in balance.

Before the invention of the lightbulb, before the synchronization of the railroads (which brought about the creation of time zones), before our modern lifestyle, man lived according to solar time. In particular, as the days grew shorter between the Fall Equinox and the Winter Solstice, it was common to sleep more, to preserve energy as well as food stores, and to rest up in preparation for the hard work required for spring planting later in the year. Now, instead of tuning in to the natural rhythms of the earth, we speed up, shop til we drop and generally stress ourselves out, forgetting that the original reason for the late December celebration was to welcome the return of the Sun/Son, and to feast in honor of good friends and good health.

We must look for ourselves in the darkness of the Great Mother’s cloak. Without the darkness of the womb there is no creation, no birth, no life.

All life begins in that place of darkness. Like the incubating seed I described at the beginning of the meditation, each of us began our journeys in a safe, warm and dark place where we are nourished and nurtured. Like children, our creative ideas also begin in a dark place, the place of imagination. Stillness is required for the creative spark to be ignited. Whatever we are birthing, the place of darkness is the place where it begins.

And now it is time to bid farewell to the longest night, to the Midnight of the year. Remember, contrary to popular belief in our bottom-line society, time spent in stillness is actually quite productive. Before you greet the return of the lifegiving light of the sun, I hope you’ll take a moment to honor the dark for all it provides.

Happy Solstice!

Technorati Tags: Solstice, Galactic Center, Scorpio, dark, light, Kabbalah, Tree of Life, ritual, duality

Stars fade like memory the instant before dawn. Low in the east, the sun appears golden as an opening eye. That which can be named must exist. That which is named can be written. That which is written is remembered. That which is remembered lives.
~Normandi Ellis
Awakening Osiris: The Egyptian Book of the Dead

In a few short days, people all over the world will celebrate some version of the holiday set aside to commemorate the dead. We in the west, of course, know this festival as Halloween, a day more commonly associated with dressing up and begging for candy than with honoring those who have gone before.

In many North American cities, the Mexican feast of Dia de los Muertos, Day of the Dead, has been adopted and is celebrated along with Halloween. These festivals have all but lost their original intent of honoring the dead, instead becoming yet another excuse for a party.

In his book “Learning to Love Yourself,” Gay Hendricks writes, “A poor relationship with death eliminates the possibility of a clear and passionate relationship with life.”

I first began to speak of honoring the dead in 2001, shortly after the September 11th attack on the World Trade Towers. I mistakenly believed that the people of this country might be in need of outlets for expressing their grief. But I quickly discovered that this was a subject no one wanted to discuss.

Five years later, many people are still not willing to talk about it.

Fear of death is a universal fear. Advances in science have only served to support the belief that death is a terrible fate that can be held off indefinitely. With the number of American soldiers killed in the Iraq war approaching 3000, our president continues to forbid publication of images of the coffins of those who gave their lives in service. In the last few years we have witnessed several natural disasters that have taken the lives of thousands, here and around the world. Yet so many in this country choose to ignore the effects of these harsh realities.

I believe that it’s time for the subject of death to come out of the closet of taboos. Without a healthy way of dealing with our feelings of loss, we become vicitms of unconscious anxiety and paralyzing fears.

Having a practice for honoring the dead can create a sense of continuity with the past & the future. Since 9/11 there has been a growing interest in mediums, psychics who communicate with our dead. But one doesn’t have to depend on a “middleman” to commune with those who have passed. We can take inspiriation from the practices of other cultures, both ancient and modern.

In Mexico, honoring of children who have died is done on November 1st, honoring those who died as adults is done on November 2nd.

Graves are cleaned up and decorated. Family members tell stories of the departed. Altars called Ofrendas are set up. These are usually decorated with yellow marigolds called Flor de Los Muertos or Flower of the Dead. The fragrance is said to be recognized by the dead, calling them back to this world. Petals of Flor de Los Muertos are spread on the pathway to the houses by a relative. it is said that if this is done by a stranger, the ancestor will not recognize the way home.

The visiting dead are fed, then sometimes given a pack of cigarettes and a basin and towel so they may wash up afterwards.

In some Buddhist traditions it is believed that a dead person does not realize he or she has passed until the 3rd day after his actual death.

On the third day after passing, friends and family prepare the favorite foods of the deceased. They speak to the departed one, reassuring him that they still love him even though he is no longer physically with the family. It is very much like a farewell party.

Koreans view death as an extension of life rather than an end. It is perceived as returning to the place of origin. Koreans use the term “having returned” much in the way we say “passed away”. The “returned” person is thought to always remain near to look after the well-being of his or her descendants. It is considered duty to look after the dead as if they are actually living.

When a person dies, the family members begin wailing. Then then go up to the roof with the clothes of the departed and perform rituals where they call out the name of the dead three times and shout “pok” meaning “come back,” back to the place of origin.

My dear friend and mentor, Annie, spent many years working with the Mien community in California and learning about their traditions. Mien ancestors are honored, fed and cared for so they will stay near to protect and care for the family.

As part of the marriage ceremony the new family member is introduced to the ancestors. The same is done when a child is adopted into the family. Whenever advice was sought or an event took place that could impact the family, a ritual was held to contact and consult with the ancestors. Altars are set up and food is placed there to feed the ancestors.

Feeding of the dead is a ritual common to many cultures. As part of the Bon Festival, Japanese Buddhists offer foods to the deceased.

It is an old Lithuanian belief that the soul of the dead cannot rest if the table is not set. At an annual feast, the table is set with special foods and everyone eats in silence, the dead partaking of the meal with the living. Everyone would spill a portion of their drink at the corner of the table where no one sat, offering it to the dead, saying, “This is for you, dear souls.” The Poles have a similar ritual.

Not too long ago, I was taking a walk through Portland’s historic Lone Fir Pioneer Cemetery. Many of the graves had the usual flowers and potted plants decorating them. But the one grave that caught my attention had, instead of daisies, a bag of Doritos, a can of Coke and a baseball. The engraving on the headstone told me that this was the burial site of a young man who had not made it out of his teens. The name was decidedly Slavic, and it made me wonder if his family was carrying on this old tradition of feeding the dead.

On a more recent visit, I did not find any graves with Doritos for the dead, but I did find this offering. (Photo taken with permission from the deceased.)

In my own ritual practice I have been sharing a meal with the dead on All Hallow’s Eve for many years. I cook the foods that were favorites of my deceased friends and relatives and then invite them to share my meal, making small servings just for them. Every year, never fail, I have an uninvited guest or two. In 2000, it was a member of the crew of the Kursk, the Russian submarine that exploded and sank in the Barents Sea. In 2001, it was one of the firefighters who perished in the aftermath of the twin tower disaster. I always invite them to sit down and join in the meal.

Since 2001, my best friend Amy Gerver has been a regular visitor at my “Dumb Supper” celebration. Amy drowned in a rafting accident on the Idaho River in May 2001. This post is dedicated to her.

Amy liked to serve spaghetti and tomato sauce at our Dumb Suppers. What will you be serving this Halloween?

May the light shine through us and on us and in us. May we die each night and be born each morning that the wonder of life should not escape us. May we love and laugh and enter lightly into each other’s hearts. May we live forever. May we live forever.
~Normandi Ellis
Awakening Osiris: The Egyptian Book of the Dead

Technorati Tags: Halloween, Dia de los Muertos, death, honoring the dead, ancestors, Dumb Supper

Eris is the Goddess of Discord, after whom an entire alternative religion has been named. If you’ve ever attended a Discordian Ritual, you will understand why I am holding my head between my hands. Eris love to make trouble. Whenever she appears, chaos and confusion ensue.

It was Eris who, with her golden apple, set into motion the events that would lead to the Trojan War. Lasting 10 years, the war’s most famous symbol, the Trojan Horse, has become a metaphor for deception and trickery.

Michael Brown of the California Institute of Technology, the man who discovered the dwarf planet, said the name was “too perfect to resist.” Perhaps Mr. Brown has a copy of the Principia Discordia hidden in one of his desk drawers.

Whatever his motive, by choosing a name that reflects the current state of world affairs, Mr. Brown has helped to shape the future of astrological interpretation.

Hail, Eris!

What we found is that, after an individual has been morally challenged, there is an increased need to cleanse… Daily hygiene routines such as washing hands, as simple and benign as they may seem, can deliver a powerful antidote to threatened morality.

Is this really news? Many ancient civilizations held water as a sacred and fundamental element of life. The washing away of “sins,” sometimes referred to as Ablution, has been a part of organized religion for centuries. More than one faith considers washing before prayer not only good form but essential. On the site for The National Jewish Resource Center’s Ritual Life Archive we find this tidbit:

Washing of hands in a ceremonial fashion is used as a way of easing transitions from one state of consciousness to another…

Now both sides of your brain have good reason to heed the advice of your mother: Wash Your Hands!