Farewell to Our 2014 Season!
Holding and sharing wholeness--that was the focus at White Rose Farm in 2014.
We have now entered a quiet time--of holidays, warmth and reflection. Our best wishes to you for a season filled with the warmth of food, friends and family and the glow of inner light,
Posted by Sally Voris :: Thursday, January 8 :: 7:24am
A friend and I stepped into two inches of light, crystalline snow last night. We had committed to spreading the Three-Kings preparation, a world-wide ritual to heal the Earth.
Hugo Erbe created this preparation after the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. A biodynamic farmer in Germany, Erbe felt how the bombings disturbed the elemental beings and the energy field of the earth. He created a healing balm made of gold, frankincense and myrrh, the gifts that the Three Kings had brought to honor the Christ child. Those substances,some say, represent an awareness of the spiritual events behind physical form.Others say that in this ritual, we are preparing for the coming of the etheric Christ.
I had heard about this preparation from another friend. She described how biodynamic farmers all over the world spread this preparation on their land at dusk on January 6. I imagined a healing wave of energy circumnavigating the globe. I wanted to participate.
I order a kit from the Josephine Porter Institute(www.jpibiodynamics.org). On New Year's Eve, I grind the three ingredients together, then add water and glycerin to make a paste. On January 6 in the afternoon, I mix the paste with water and stir it for an hour. As darkness settles, I sprinkle the enlivened water around the perimeter of the farm. I invite friends to join me.
The first year, another friend helped me. We faced freezing rain and sloppy snow. My friend is a short, stout woman with great heart, but limited stamina. I decided to ask the trees to help us. We both felt their excitement at being included! Now, each year, I include them and bless them.
To view a tree trunk by the light of the moon in mid-winter reminds me of how it is to see one's naked lover standing in half-light, open to being seen. One becomes expectant, appreciative, humble. To be seen in one's nakedness; to see another clearly. To face the elements—the elemental forces—that is much of what stepping into the woods at this time of year is like.
I first exercise my will to step away from the warm hearth fire to don layer upon layer of clothes. I step outside, feel the chill of the air, breathe in its freshness, wonder at the breadth of the sky, the magic of the moon hanging above the Earth, the crunch of the snow underfoot, and the sublime quiet.
My friend and I tromped through high grass along the fence row in the pasture. Soon we stood amidst field and tree,far from any reminder of the modern world. We saw the play of form and formless—the silhouettes of buildings, trees and shrubs against white open fields and broad sky. We noticed clumps of snow on the ends of the long stalks of weeds We watched my dog run happily through the snow. We were surprised as birds flitted suddenly from brush, twittering. It was intensely present; deeply filling.
“It feels ancient,” my friend said. She had listened to a program on the radio as she drove from the Washington DC area to the farm. A guest described how technology could send a sense of fragrance from one person to another. Such technology seemed inconsequential where we now walked.
I want to get more people to the farm, I explained, to connect with the Earth. It is not enough to think: we must find a spiritual path and walk it; find a devotional practice and do it to make a difference.
Last year this friend and I were out on the coldest night of the year in blustery wind, freezing cold. She already plans to be back next year. So do I.