Christmas—the birth of the light. In the darkness a light has shined. The light transfigures, changes us. We have seen and can never un-see. Yet, the moment of illumination is brief—vivid in the extreme, but all too quickly over. In the immediate aftermath all is clear. Then memory plays its tricks. Did we really see? And if we did, what did we see? And how does what we saw affect us know?The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light ... For a child has been born to us ...
The prophet Isaiah
The swift flash of lightning rending the darkness has been given the value of a mysterium tremendum which, by transfiguring the world, fills the soul with holy terror.Illumination is close to the center of spiritual experience. Like all experiences, it is better felt than put into words, for something is lost in the telling. We want to explain, we want others to know, we need to check out what we think we have experienced. Yet, the telling forms a narrative framework that restricts, limits, and dulls the experience.
Mircea Eliade in The Two and the One.
We are fortunate if at some point in our lives we are given moments of illumination. I am thankful for several over the last four decades of spiritual seeking.
A few weeks ago, I went into the back garden for my morning meditation and taiji practice. I began as usual with some gentle stretching. Then out of nowhere and with no warning I had a very strange experience. Everything changed. It was as if I could now see and feel Reality itself. It was an instant of the utmost clarity. The world was gossamer thin—the material transparent. It lasted but seconds and passed. It was startling in the extreme. In its wake it left me literally dizzy. I went inside and sat down. I had feelings like a panic attack. I was sick in my stomach. Head between the knees. The discomfort lasted several minutes, before I was able to go outside again. When I did, everything was as ever it was. I did my meditation with no further disruption. Weird.
I have pondered my experience. I will not say what it was, for in truth I do not know. It was ambiguous. It felt like total insight (though that is inadequate to explain the experience), followed by almost total fear. Mysterium tremendum, the mystics called such an experience. It is said of the Christmas shepherds that as the glory of God shone around them that they were terrified. When I read that in the Christmas story again, after my strange experience, I had a new insight— or perhaps the beginning of insight. By all accounts we are ever only given glimpses. A full site of Reality for a prolonged period would finish us off! The human frame can only take Reality in very small doses.
What to make of such experiences of illumination?
a) There is always ambiguity. Did I see? What did I see? Was it illusion?
b) But, we can never say we have not seen.
c) Such experiences create desire for Reality.
d) They are best tucked away. Saved to memory.
e) Standstill often follows illumination, but gradual progress will follow with perseverance.
Christmas—the birth of the light. The light is very much like a newborn infant, who comes from beyond, who is God with us.
+Ab. Andy