All kinds of angels

Reims cathedral angel: G.Garitan, Creative Commons

At the funeral the other day I was impressed by the symbolism and the ritual. I was not brought up in a particular religious tradition, complete with beliefs and instructions and rituals so I did not have to rebel against any of it, on the contrary I’ve been drawn to the ritual and the theatre, the appeals to the senses, the incense, the hypnotic power of repetition, and I’ve always enjoyed singing hymns.

And at the burial, after the service, all the elements were there, like a statement of the power of the original, the pre-Christian deities, and the earth, Gaia, herself: the earth, into which the coffin is lowered; the air all around us as we stand around the graveside; the Sun, eternal in the heavens, bringing life to the earth; and then, the dramatic clouding over, and cold rain, but just a sprinkling, reminding of holy water.

In Earlston churchyard, Scotland

Studies by Masaru Emoto show how water molecules change into harmonious patterns if loving feelings are directed towards them. And the evidence of rebirth is all around us, with the seedlings I planted sprouting, leaves emerging from tree branches, in different rhythms, some still tightly curled and some unfolding and opening out to catch the rays of the sun. The first flowers, and the cherry blossom.