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Leo
New Moon Meditation for 2004:
The Radiant
Presence of Divine Youth
By Jean Hinson
Lall
As
the young athletes of over two hundred nations converge in Athens
for the 2004 Olympic Games, Sun and Moon come together in the
Sun’s own heroic sign, Leo. In the course of the Games, each competitor
will strive to approximate the golden perfection of
the solar god Apollo, who was often depicted as a flawless
youth. The Leonian spirit is augmented this week by Venus and
Saturn in Cancer, showing the nourishing support the athletes
receive from home and the love and sense of duty they feel toward
their countries, and also by Mars, Mercury and Jupiter in Virgo,
representing the strength, technique, competitive drive, hard
work, and self-control essential to success. Uranus in Pisces
is opposite Mercury and Mars, infusing the proceedings with a
universal perspective and exalted idealism that balances personal
ambition and technical achievement (and also possibly introducing
some surprises).
As we noted
back in May, the rest of this year’s New Moons will fall in the
late degrees of their respective signs, so that by the time we
reach this archetypal moment of rebirth each month we have already
journeyed with the Sun through the greater part of the sign and
absorbed its lessons, including that of the Full Moon polarity.
We have a lot to reflect back on, as well as a new lunar cycle
to look forward to. Moreover, Mercury is retrograde until
September 2, amplifying the retrospective quality of this time,
so fitting for the return of the Olympic flame to the land where
the Games began.
In our personal
New Moon reflections, we may find it fruitful to reflect on the
symbolism of the divine youth, to reconnect with our own
youthful selves, and to remember and appreciate the gifts life
gave us when we were young.
Recovering
one’s inner child has become a cultural fad, at times carried
to such self-indulgent lengths that one longs for a counter-movement
to search for the inner adult! Behind the fad, though, is a deep
psychological and spiritual insight. Throughout the world we find
the deity appearing in the form of a child or youth, as for example
Krishna, Apollo, Artemis, Persephone, Hermes or Christ. Childhood
itself thus seems to have a divine aspect, or to be a doorway
to the source. Our personal childhood has divine backing and resonance,
yet the figure of the holy child is not personal.
At the risk
of oversimplifying we could say that symbolically the child is
the source of creativity, the possibility of change and renewal,
and the carrier of the future. Apparently the child is also essential
to spiritual life, for according to Jesus we must become as
little children in order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.
Our Baltimore
neighbor Rudy Strukoff, a blues musician, tells me that he never
had to reconnect with the inner child because he never got disconnected
in the first place. The door to the source was never slammed shut.
That’s the secret of his artistic success (and no doubt also one
of the reasons why he is such a delightful friend and neighbor).
Somehow Rudy lucked out in school, getting introduced to finger-painting
at a critical point in his development. The way he described this
first experience of painting, I could tell that it had served
to inoculate him against the dissociation from the creative source
that most children suffer in the course of their schooling.
The interesting
thing is how much mileage we can get out of just a few experiences
of that kind. Lately I’ve been feeling grateful for some of the
lucky breaks I got in my own schooling. I was a brainy, serious
child who made the most of the academic offerings at the various
schools I attended, but those were the glory days of North American
public education when there was no perceived shortage of funds
to pay for art, music and practical life skills as well as academics.
Sewing, choral singing, ballroom and folk dancing brought me joy,
but it was above all a handful of theatrical experiences – drama
classes and plays -- that sustained my soul life and kept open
the door to the world of magic and the sacred.
I was fortunate
in my religious upbringing too, nourished on stories, music, and
a felt sense of the nearness of a loving Creator (something not
at all difficult to imagine under the Rocky Mountain sky!), rather
than on doctrine. In the summers we often went to vacation Bible
school, where there was plenty of time to draw, paint, sing, learn
Bible verses and stories, and make things with our hands. One
summer I built a model of the house with the upper room
where Jesus had the last Passover meal with his disciples. Though
the model itself is long gone, the house remains with me still
as an inner abode, a sanctuary always in readiness for the Lord
and his friends. Years later when I went to live in India I stayed
in houses just like it, made of mud brick and whitewashed, with
little upper rooms perched up top and space on the flat roof to
sit outside and talk late into the night or fall asleep under
the stars. I felt right at home. The tangible Indian houses reinforced
the reality of my imaginal Galilean house, just as the dusty Indian
roads (where Mahatma Gandhi had only recently walked with his
disciples) brought to life for me the Galilean countryside long
ago trodden by Jesus and his followers.
Gather to
your heart the treasures of your childhood and youth, the
saving graces that kept your soul alive in imperfect circumstances,
and celebrate them at this New Moon. Give thanks to and for your
parents and teachers. Practice and enjoy the skills you learned
from them, and think of how you might pass them on. Embrace the
perfect, radiant image of youth within you, which is not your
personal inner child but an eternal presence through which the
world can be healed and the future born.
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