As we enter into Holy week, I offer a personal account of a teaching by Cynthia and a sea eagle on remorse of being and sacred wounds.
Remorse. It’s an impactful word. For you too? Perhaps it drags up near or ancient memories of an angry God, sin and damnation unless there is repentance. I shudder at this theology.
Cynthia spoke this word a couple of times at the September 2023 practice day. My ears pricked up and something in my heart as well. I quote:
“What does Wisdom bring to the world, the conscious circle of humanity bring to the planet? Especially in these times of planetary crisis which have to do with crisis but also a breakthrough to a new level of consciousness. What does it bring? The task of cosmic dialysis and take some of the pain and disorientation that is our planetary lot today. To breathe it in, breathe it out, give it back, purify it in our own conscience and remorseful heart”.
Remorse comes from the Latin roots re for “again” and mordere “to bite.” If you feel remorse, it means that “your conscience is working on you, your past actions are biting you back.” This meaning from the dictionary, helps me to see it is out of our conscious control. The past is coming up to bite us back.
I had a period in my life when the past rose up to bite me. Out of the mud of remorse and gut twisting guilt was the lotus flower of Christ’s forgiveness as an intimate overwhelming light filled embrace. The remorse and regret remained intense for another ten years. Grief has its own journey and wisdom.
The scar from the wound has kept me awake. These are sacred wounds that circle around and around as pure gift to remind us – there is no separation.
This past Christmas a sacred wound arose in response to a Wisdom Waypoints Solstice event. I was aware of an over weighted sense of responsibility to ensure this time together was reflective of Cynthia’s invitation and encouragement to us as a wisdom community in how we can step up the plate collectively, as planetary, world and local events unfold. In other words, I wanted to get it right. I didn’t want to do harm.
I was pondering all of this on a deck overlooking a body of water. An osprey (sea eagle) flew across my field of vision. She had a fish firmly in the vice of her claws. She went out of view and circled back around to perch on a branch not 20 feet from where I was, at eye level. I see ospreys here all the time, but never perched as close as this to homes. This was unusual.
I watched the death rattles of the fish, the osprey simply waited as it squirmed beneath her powerful claws. The life force left.
I knew that she knew I was in her field — in a relational field. We ate lunch together, one could say her more gruesomely than I, as she groped at the fish’s flesh, its nerves still responding with a flap of the tail.
But then the thought came — I think not. I am as gruesome as her in my taking. I cannot, not, do harm. The gravity of this was felt viscerally.
I also heard in my awareness, this is not to be judged or made wrong, but only to turn to the Holy One and bow saying “Lord have Mercy, Lord Mercy us.” To fall in humility into this merciful field, and as Cynthia gently but potently said at the practice day:
“A rebirth of the personal that calls for ‘remorse of being’ is better transacted with a thou-oh lord forgive me I have sinned.“
With that, I sat on the deck with the eagle for two hours as she devoured the fish. My hands every now and then fell into a prayer position and my head bowed in awe, gratitude and humility for this sacred dance of the eater, the eaten all held in a ‘sea of mercy.’
After every Centering Prayer sit, Ken and I utter the Hail Mary. It pulls me into the circular nature of life — birth, death and rebirth. I remember, I am nothing without God. I am harmed and do harm, all held in a redemptive merciful field of love.
It is a gift to enter into Holy week with you all, celebrating this beautiful mystery in all its grotesque and glorious unfoldings.
Have a blessed Easter,
Beth