Symbolic Species

on a string of prayers

I just acquired an old rosary. Or shall I say that it acquired me. At first I said no when I saw it even though:

It was right where the reverend intuited it would be.

It was the only one in the antique store.

And because:

I had a stubborn idea of something more elaborate and “beautiful.”

It came too easy.

I went home with a little snag in my side from something trying to pull me back to the shop. There was no more searching for the perfect whatever I had in mind. The plain Jane wooden beaded rosary with a little Jesus on the cross was mine. I called the shop, and so it is.

I smudged then anointed each bead with vibhuti ash from the ashram, (I don’t think Jesus will mind). I then had it blessed by Reverend Pam at the Unity church. When she handed it back she said:

“this isn’t wood, these are seeds and I advise you to research what they are.”

Duh.

I had taken the hired help’s word that it was all wood, even though the texture of the beads would say otherwise to anyone who slowed down enough to notice. I am not slowed down enough right now. I have a little freight train inside of me, fueled by a mix of excitement and terror, full steam aheading. The comedy of it is that I have only the slightest, little slim peak a boo into where and what I am barrelin’ towards. A recipe for accidental derailing.

The rosary has been trying to speak to me through elaborate visions about its origin and why the simplicity of its design is necessary. A part of me blows them off and rolls my eyes behind a veil of tears carrying the presence of what I won’t allow myself to name.

I called the shop owner who did not know anything about its origin or make, the grumpy bead store guy had no clue, the local gypsy who sells import jewelry at her summer sidewalk booth simply said - “ooh, these are very special beads”- and my own research pulled up dead ends until…

I turned to AI. I know, I know. It’s a tool I have been touching into for very specific things like “wtheck kind of seed is this?”

After some intriguing bot talk the seed emerged.

It is an olive seed rosary with a wood cross. They may be a dime a dozen somewhere, and this discovery might not mean anything to you, but my whole body lit up like a lightning rod - Hallelujah!

The Olive Tree and Olive Pit Seeds:

• Peace and Reconciliation: The olive tree is widely recognized as a symbol of peace, drawing from the biblical story of Noah where a dove returned with an olive branch, signifying the end of the flood and God's renewed relationship with humanity.

• Prosperity and Blessing: In biblical times, the olive tree represented abundance and divine favor, providing essential oil for various purposes.

• Spiritual Anointing and Kingship: Olive oil was used to anoint kings, priests, and prophets, symbolizing God's setting apart and empowering for a specific purpose.

• Connection to the Holy Land: Olive trees are deeply rooted in the history and geography of the Holy Land, especially locations like Jerusalem and Bethlehem, making rosaries crafted from olive wood or pits a tangible link to the places where Jesus lived, taught, and prayed.

• Resilience and Longevity: The olive tree's ability to thrive in challenging conditions represents endurance and a lasting faith.

I am not one to banter around in our political climate. And, I imagine you are aware that, in this devastating war over in the Holy land, millions of ancient olive trees have been destroyed.

The destruction of olive trees is particularly impactful because:

• Economic Impact: Olive cultivation is a major agricultural crop and a significant source of income for many Palestinian families, with some sources stating it contributes around 14% to the Palestinian economy and supports 80,000-100,000 households.

• Cultural and Symbolic Importance: The olive tree is deeply rooted in Palestinian culture, symbolizing resilience, permanence, and a connection to the land and heritage. Many trees are hundreds, even thousands, of years old.

Every species and form of life on this planet is significant and loved equally in the eyes of Creation. When any species is destroyed, especially one that holds significant, symbolic real estate in the collective psyche, it sends a ripple of grief through the collective and individual soul- as well as a message. This is a grief that most of us ignore until our own flesh is scarred by a significant personal loss spurred by the {mostly} glazed over, collective losses.

As I entered the writing space today I did not intend to touch on genocide, spirituality and what I see as a root cause of the divisions we see all over the planet right now. But once I enter a story it’s not entirely up to me how it wants to be told.

So, here I am, with a grip in my heart over how convoluted the story of Christ has become, and the significant impacts this deviation from the messiah’s message of Love, has had on Earth and her children.

It’s playing out before us in the Holy land, and much of the population can’t make the symbolic connection between this war torn planet, the story of Christ and how its convoluted interpretations impact our daily lives. We face major spiritual crisis and this story, that has impacted our reigning human epoch more than any other, holds answers for our renewal.

I am aware I may lose readers here. I risk being cast as a proselytizing, divisive, fundamentalist, “Jesus loving crazy woman who holds big red JESUS signs on the side of the road (who I do honk and waive at) who now can’t be trusted because she is Christian. Which I am not!- and of course I am. I stumble each day trying to walk the path of Love as laid out by the life and teachings of Jesus-

And Buddha, and Amma, and the Tao, and the first Shamanas, Priestesses and Druids. I hear the teachings upon the winds as they whisper about inevitable change, embedded in the stone that shows me how a smooth edge often requires many storms, the deep waters and ever deeper skies that reveal the Blue in all living things. I hear Him everywhere, and the Mother that birthed Him and the Father that protects Him to serve God - that formidable, fecund darkness that gives light to all breath.

I bow at the feet and pray into the pain that teaches how to enter that most resisted place of high human potential: neutrality- or another word for Peace. Not aloofness, not passivity, not avoidance of feeling, but the posture of absolute unreactive, fully responsive, fully humanized unconditional love. Our great capacity.

Thank you.

My original aim when I set foot into this story was to touch upon that ever-present shepherding hand that guides us to the next bread crumb upon our trail. The one that refeeds the faith and shores up the footing on the daunting path home to the heart.

Each time I follow the threads I unravel a piece of my own personal mystery that reveals a healing and an inheritance that far surpasses anything I could have desired “all on my own”. There is no substance, plant, intoxicant or external force that compares to what I experience within myself when I am illuminated by the awesome, guiding light of Life, of Christ. It’a a hard won sobriety that requires daily devotion to the greater good and attempts at surrender.

At every turn towards this surrender I will meet all that has stood in the way of true freedom. This is where most people get deterred. But this fear of meeting oneself is the gatekeeper of peace.

The dauntingly dark landscape of memories, twisted up stories and emotions is where God buries Herself. And the only way to know why requires you brave the terrain of your unique life, that you chose, that you tucked that “just in case” power bar into the glove box for. Or-

-a rosary that shows up at just the right time to feed a starving part of your soul in a haze of wonder if you would ever get another signpost, or clue, about your personal and unique purpose and path here through the labyrinth of life. A path where every faithful footstep leaves a soothing balm upon the bitter, burnt, war torn bits scarred into the heart of humanity.

Olive seed blessings to you.

May all lands, and the human and non-human beings who inhabit them, be seen as holy. Shira Starfire

(Olive tree information gleaned from various websites)