Day 3 - Masks and Images: ME Me or IMAGE Me

As we meet the time of Samhain or Halloween on October 31st, and Samhain Day on the 1st of November, we may not be aware why we are celebrating, dressing up, and going from door to door.  In Celtic times Samhain is the Gaelic festival for summer’s end. It is when the summer grazing for herds ends and they are brought down from the hills for the cold, dark, winter months. It is the time of year when the veil between worlds is thinnest, and communication between the material world and Spirit is most conducive. And Gaelic oral history tells us, it was a time for putting on costumes and going door to door with words of verse in exchange for food. Similar to the Chinese tradition of leaving food out for the Hungry Ghosts, offerings of food were left on doorsteps to give thanks and to appease those beings of the Other realms.  As with many of our contemporary traditions, Hallowe’en bears many similarities to the seasonal festival of Samhain. What both have in common is a tradition of costume and masks, a time of change and some form of awareness of the Other realms.

Because I’ve been talking about fear, I’ve been looking at the various masks and roles we play when we are living, consciously or unconsciously, from fear.  The doors of change have well and truly blown open for me, and the masks I have worn in the form of image have been shattered. Standing naked on the threshold of a doorway that leads to authenticity, I am able to choose: Do I walk forward or step back and close the door?

Sharing with people yesterday, we talked about the ways discord arises when we have a perception of our self that doesn’t marry up with the ‘who’ of how we are living. In 2009 when I came to God, with the aid of Archangel Raphael and my first full-blown heart centre opening, I was deep in LOVE.  Then when my primary Spirit communicator, Heru, came through, I was blown away with LOVE. I loved everything and everyone. It was the most incredible high I’ve known.

Overtime the high wore off and I was left with an image of what that meant for me. Without reference or role model, I created a moulded a mask out of feelings and ideas about what that love ‘should’ look like. The image that was created was one of holiness – well, a skewed, pious, very restrictive notion of holiness.

These days I understand that the holy is in everything and everyone, from the beggar on the street, the average person on the street to the business genius, and foulest politician running for office, from the solo meditator to the Dalai Lama – the creative Source that is the divine essence of God or if you prefer, the Universe, is alive in each of us. How we choose to express it is another matter entirely.

I thought that because I was having these ‘holy’ feelings; that because I wanted to help folk to feel and live those feelings and realisations, that I had to somehow give-up something. I had to live a certain way. I had to join a ministry, be single, celibate, squeaky, squeaky, squeaky clean in behaviour and manner and inside and out.

I don’t even know if I consciously thought this, but I somehow morphed into a semblance of these things. And what made it easier to live that way was that as I came into the truth of other aspects of my life – working with Spirit, healing, magic and speaking – others started to add their perceptions of holy to my image. There I was, propped up in my holy ivory tower…

…And there I was separated from everyone, and the very folk I wanted to be connected with, and the very work that I wanted to do, and they way I wanted to love – in the world.

And don’t get me wrong – this image didn’t have me in its clutches all the time. That’s the thing about ME me and IMAGE or MASK me, the discord exists because there is a tangible difference between who we are trying to be and who we are.

Sigh.

Well, in this process of heart opening, and fear moving away, so too the mask has been melted, and naked me has taken the step outside to walk among the living and the dead, the faerie and the Other realms. Most importantly, to be who I am, in all my messy, glorious, holy self.

I wonder if you too have an image of yourself that gets in the way of being who you are. We’re back to authenticity here, aren’t we?

And I don’t mean aspiration or a desire for change and self or spiritual development. No, I mean that image or mask that might have been build up over time because of hurts, other people’s stories or as in my case, misperception and ultimately fear of exposure, which translates into fear of rejection.

Well, I could write and write more… but I’m oot of time!! Hope this one wasn’t too rambling!! See you tomorrow J