Anne Key's Blog, page 2
January 15, 2013
thinking about priestessing...
I was thinking about priestessing this morning. One reason I am so passionate about finding women in their role as priestesses in the past is that I think it gives women new vistas for our understanding of women's roles in religion and spiritual practice. The Apsaras and Devatas on the walls of Angkor Wat are often considered "decorative." What if we considered the Devatas to be images of the priestesses? Or guardians of the temples (like the dvarapalas, also shown at the entrances, though in far fewer numbers)? That changes our heritage as women, from beautiful decoration to active, strong, and influential players.
December 12, 2012
For La Virgen de Guadalupe, on Her day
It was a cool late spring morning in Mexico City. I was up early, and the streets were still sleepy. The peddlers hadn’t even taken up their usual spots on the stairs down to the metro. I hopped on the metro easily, somehow missing the morning rush. The stop for the Basilica de la Virgen de Guadalupe is usually surrounded by a tarp covered marketplace, but even here just a few people were beginning to unpack their wares. I walked along in the relative silence, broken only when I asked for directions.
Mounting the steps of the Basilica, I took in the view of Mexico City from this hilltop. The soft golden-white rays of the morning glittered through the omnipresent slight haze in the air, and the birds caroled around me. Pigeons toddled about. I crossed the great expanse of the plaza with the idea of finally checking this off my list.
Even though I had been to Mexico City a number of times, I had not visited the Basilica of the Virgen de Guadalupe. My time was always engulfed by the Museo Nacional de Antropologia or the Zócalo. This morning I had carved out the time to be here and see the famous tela of La Virgen. I had no expectations – it was just something I felt I should do, just another stop on the tourist track.
I walked in and followed the signs. The auditorium was enormous and almost empty at this hour. Only a few people close to the front and a priest intoning something in Latin. I turned the corner and saw three short moving sidewalks, parallel to the wall—two going one direction, and one in the other. The area was completely deserted. I stepped on one sidewalk and as I began moving, I looked up to the giant framed tela of La Virgen.
I gazed into Her face, and She gazed into mine. I fell to my knees in front of Her, my heart cracked open, and I was filled with Her love. It seemed as if the sidewalk stilled. I was a supplicant, with un-thought and unspoken prayers answered in the rush of a moment. As the sidewalk reached its end, I stumbled off, shaken, filled, forgiven, cleansed, weightless and glowing.
I stepped on the sidewalk moving in the other direction, and continued back and forth for quite a while. People began filtering in, joining me on the sidewalk, all eyes on Her. My hands covered my heart, feeling it renewed.
I had not expected Her to touch me; I had not expected Her to heal wounds I hadn’t even realized existed. I hadn’t expected Her to answer prayers I had not even conceived. But I am a better person today because of Her gifts. ¿No estoy yo aquí que soy tu madre? Yes, indeed.
Mounting the steps of the Basilica, I took in the view of Mexico City from this hilltop. The soft golden-white rays of the morning glittered through the omnipresent slight haze in the air, and the birds caroled around me. Pigeons toddled about. I crossed the great expanse of the plaza with the idea of finally checking this off my list.
Even though I had been to Mexico City a number of times, I had not visited the Basilica of the Virgen de Guadalupe. My time was always engulfed by the Museo Nacional de Antropologia or the Zócalo. This morning I had carved out the time to be here and see the famous tela of La Virgen. I had no expectations – it was just something I felt I should do, just another stop on the tourist track.
I walked in and followed the signs. The auditorium was enormous and almost empty at this hour. Only a few people close to the front and a priest intoning something in Latin. I turned the corner and saw three short moving sidewalks, parallel to the wall—two going one direction, and one in the other. The area was completely deserted. I stepped on one sidewalk and as I began moving, I looked up to the giant framed tela of La Virgen.
I gazed into Her face, and She gazed into mine. I fell to my knees in front of Her, my heart cracked open, and I was filled with Her love. It seemed as if the sidewalk stilled. I was a supplicant, with un-thought and unspoken prayers answered in the rush of a moment. As the sidewalk reached its end, I stumbled off, shaken, filled, forgiven, cleansed, weightless and glowing.
I stepped on the sidewalk moving in the other direction, and continued back and forth for quite a while. People began filtering in, joining me on the sidewalk, all eyes on Her. My hands covered my heart, feeling it renewed.
I had not expected Her to touch me; I had not expected Her to heal wounds I hadn’t even realized existed. I hadn’t expected Her to answer prayers I had not even conceived. But I am a better person today because of Her gifts. ¿No estoy yo aquí que soy tu madre? Yes, indeed.
