Loving the look of this fab and fierce goddess!
Wise women also came.
The fire burned in their wombs
long before they saw the flaming star in the sky.
They walked in shadows,
trusting the path would open under the light of the moon.
Wise women also came,
seeking no directions, no permission from any king.
They came by their own authority, their own desire, their own longing.
sparking no fears to lead to innocents’ slaughter,
to their sister Rachel’s inconsolable lamentations.
Wise women also came, and they brought useful gifts:
water for labour’s washing, fire for warm illumination, a blanket for swaddling.
Wise women also came,
at least three of them,
holding Mary in the labour,
crying out with her in the birth pangs,
breathing ancient blessings into her ear.
Wise women also came, and they went,
as wise women always do,
home a different way.
Poem by Jan L. Richardson, from
Night Visions: searching for shadows of advent and christmas, 1998: United Church Press
Collage by Bard Judith, January 2015
A well-known definition of ‘insanity’ is ‘while performing the same actions, to expect something different.’ Peter Drucker’s quote puts it more clearly and kindly, but the intent is clear: if you want change in your life, you must be change’s agent. And we are always afraid of change. We fear that it will hurt (as it probably will.) We worry about the extra effort (which must be put forth) and the expense in time or money or emotional energy or physical resources (everything has its price). We come up with all kinds of excuses and reasons, deferrals and procrastinations, distractions and prioritizations, all circling around and avoiding change.
But after all, the opposite of change is stasis – a frozen, unliving, inutile state which we can’t reconcile with the brutiful, wild, messy, changable life we actually live. What if we expended that energy – and that time and money and resources – on making the changes we need to live more fully? What if you sank your teeth into that elephant you’ve been avoiding and started eating it instead, bite by bite? What if you rode that wild pegasus or bridled a three-headed dog? Oh, you might get scratches and knocks and bellyaches – but you might also learn to fly.
If you want something new, don’t just stop doing something old – start doing something new. Throw out the soured milk and clear the spot in your icebox for a pitcher full of cream. Then go out and find a purple cow to milk.