It took me a long time to find a representation of Our Lady with the "right face" for me. So when I found her, I knew, she is the one. Even if just for now.
The face is an extension to the eyes, and the eyes are often depicted as windows to our souls.
It has always been my contention that the giving of form to divinity makes them smaller, and less, than they (it) truly are (is). I still stand by that.
So it is with this in mind that I decided that perhaps, at this point in my journey, I could do with a bit of help. A bit of help to tune in to my Causa Prima. The Source that is so abstract, so beyond my comprehension, so vast, that it is often hard reach, to connect with, from where I am standing at this phase of my life.
Mother Mary, Our Lady, is a figure I have had some history with. She occupied my childhood spiritual world. The cuddly side of God. The mothering side of a concept a child could never grasp.
As I explored the more Protestant spectrum of the Faith, I consciously removed myself further and further away from Our Lady. Questioning the Mariology of the Roman Catholic Church which placed her as Queen of Heaven, as Saint, and as an elevated being. I was encouraged to connect directly to God, by understanding It in any ways that we can, and strain our spiritual and intellectual muscles to do so.
These lessons have been invaluable. To be sure.
But life goes up and down.
Arguably, every lowest points in our lives have the potential to be our highest points in terms of our spiritual growth.
In theory. Sure, in practice too. For some. But we all seem to be traveling on a different path in this respect. I suspect, there are reasons for that. In my own particular lows, I have found it hard to reach high into the stratosphere of abstraction. In my weakest, I can only muster the mental energy to reach to what is closest to me.
I am not yet in a place where I have my Causa Prima close to me, so close that it is always around me, with me, at every moment in my life, high, or low. I aspire to be in that place one day. But I am self aware enough to know and realize that I am not there at the moment.
As an innocent unquestioning child, before the world was old, before the mind and the spirit was jaded by life itself, I was perhaps closest to that place. That place where the source felt very close to me, almost as if it was a part of me. Maybe it was.
But until I can find that place again, here I am. Needing assistance. Needing something closer to myself, to be my intercessor. To be a helping hand.
So Mother Mary stepped right back in.
Through the visual aid of her physical representations, I tried to reach for her. Mother Mary's face, the face of the physical representation of Our Lady, was my emotional portal, through which I am able to go to that "vertical" spiritual place. If my use the word "vertical", seems suggest some sense of "height", or lack of intimacy between myself and my Causa Prima, it is not my intention. I merely use the word to distinguish this plane to a "higher" one, in a way the word is often used in the phrase "higher self".
It seems to me, that emotions allow us to be inspired, and that in turn, inspiration is the carrier of devotion.
If you've read the portion of this blog which outlined my stance on God, you would be able to imagine how abstract God can be for me. I dare say, I am not alone in this. At times, it is very hard to be emotional about an abstract God. Non-gendered, non-entity, non-temperamental, nondescript, and un-named.
I still maintain that in trying to name It, or give shape to It, we will reduce It to something smaller than It really is.
Mother Mary on the other hand, was human. Our Lady is the concrete, "this side" of God, something I can latch on to, in my moments of spiritual weakness. She was a living, breathing, human, flesh. She was a woman, like me. She has a face, like me. A pair of eyes, like me. A pair of clasped hands in worship and adoration, like me. In her I see myself. This simple projection mechanism may not be the height of human development, and somewhat infantile in its ways that insisted on seeing the self in everything. But, for the times that it has been badly needed, it worked. For me. For now.
They need to trigger the inspiration of devotion in us through our emotions. For that to happen, they need to be highly symbolic for us, to be very personal, and nostalgic. Whether this is personal nostalgia or cultural nostalgia. It needs to feed into our sense of identity.
I grew up with Our Lady's apparition as described by a young village girl named Bernadette, in Lourdes, France. Our Lady of Lourdes are often described and depicted dressed in white, wearing a light blue sash, with roses about her feet, carrying a rosary. She is often depicted with her hands clasped on her chest, as she look forward or upward.
So this was one I looked for.
Her face, her eyes, her gaze, her head tilt. Is she tilting this way or that way. Is she looking up or down. Her hands. Are they out stretched as she looks down? God like or Goddess like? Or clasped on her chest as she gazed up in devotion and adoration? Is she stepping over a serpent? Standing over the world? Or there are roses about her feet instead? Is she crowned? Is she carrying a rosary?
I wanted to be reminded that she is in a position of devotion herself. That she is not the Source, or Source personify. As she looks up, with her hands clasped on her chest, she is with me, even if as I appeal to her, and as she is appealing on my behalf. I want to be reminded that the Source is still out there, for me to reach, for me to be reunited with, for me to build a relationship with. That the road is not yet finished, the path is still outstretched before me, and the journey is long.
She is like the spirit of our loved departed ones. My father, my grandparents. In some cases, people appeal to their ancestors. I grew up Catholic, and the practice of ancestor worship is long gone. But there are memories of praying in front of altars, or graveyards, with photos of grandmother and grandfather, being told as a child by our Mass attending, church going, uncles and aunts, to ask for the blessings of departed ones, and to ask that they help ensure that we do well in school. That we are kept well, healthy, and safe.
We appeal to them, because they were once one of us. Because they are now no more. Because it feels as if this is the only way we can bridge our current selves, in the here and now, in this physical world, with the world beyond, whatever that may be.
Because they are easier to identify with and to understand. Because we are always going to me more often than not, working towards being a highly evolved being, than being one. At least I am.
So here I am, with Mother Mary once more.
I was a child the last time I talked to her. It would be interesting to see how this relationship will unfold, now that I am a woman.
Thanks for reading me talk to myself, if you are reading this far!
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