As the flames of all the lamps of the Festival of Lights celebration burn brightly and reach upward through the entire night, they show the possibility that, with the removal of darkness, grossness, and ignorance, the tiny flickering light in our hearts can also shine brightly, illuminating the whole universe. May we see all progress speedily to the highest levels of spirituality–from darkness to light, and beyond.
~ from "A Hidden Illumination" by M. M.. Schneerson in Parabola 5, 2001
The child that is born is an open bridge to the unconscious, to the unmanifest, expanded multidimensional soul. Babies are so magnificent. They're always staring off into space, into the eyes of their beloveds, of their companion souls, of God. We have all heard it said that the eyes are the windows of the soul, and the soul is very present in children... As we touch the child inside ourselves, we begin to shift from the emotional body's experience to the deeper, more profound love of our cosmic self. The child reminds us that God laughs.
~ from ECSTASY IS A NEW FREQUENCY by Chris Griscom
Guess who I am?
Guess who it is
that loves you --
you, who were the breaking of spring
in my heart
before the beginning of time;
guess who I am,
You, in the womb
before the day star I have begotten you.
~ from CARYLL HOUSELANDER by Maisie Ward with thanks to Alice Somers
The carefree hearts of children reflect qualities that are divine by their restless pranks and blissful for their innocence. It is for us to see how far we can make use of this "Divinity" in ourselves, expressed through the child-God.
To respond authentically to what we encounter: this is how we all reacted as children, before we were punished or shamed for doing so. To respond authentically to what we encounter -- how hard it is for adults to do something that sounds so simple.
To do so, we only have to be inwardly attentive, we only have to know what we feel, we only have to be able to respond with an innocent, spontaneous, instinctive receptivity that is a finely attuned discriminating consciousness, a body and soul reaction to the world around us.
Once, in the early days of my desolution, I thought I might learn to write in the language of the spiders. Now, led by the Child, I am on my way to it. The true language, I know now, is that speech in silence in which we first communicated, the Child and I, in the forest, when I was asleep. It is the language I used in my childhood, and some memory, intangibly there by not quite audible, of our marvelous conversations, comes to me again at the very edge of sleep, a language my tongue almost rediscovers and which would, I believe, reveal the secrets of the universe to me the language whose every syllable is a gesture of reconciliation. I spoke it in my childhood. I must discover it again.
Vanya wondered how he could best help this child, so pure in heart, to grow in the love of God. It was too early to SPEAK to him about God dwelling within him, so he simply encouraged him to sit still, to relax and concentrate his thoughts within. He was sure that, in the boy's open and expectant heart, the mystery would make itself known in its own way without the sounds of words... Vanya, for his part, tried to see into the depth of those wonderful eyes and, behind them, into the sanctuary of that child's heart where so clearly God was dwelling.
