Is death something to be afraid of?

It’s fall, I so enjoy walking in the woods in this season!

Carpet of leaves in the woods

Multicolored leaves cover the ground like a beautiful carpet. For a long time I had been wanting to do Shinrin-yoku, or forest bathing; it started in Japan in the 1980s. At that time, the health of the Japanese was declining due to the modern life style, doctors prescribed - and still do - going in the woods not only to exercise, but also to “feel” nature with all the senses. Recently, a certified instructor in my area led a forest bathing walk at dusk, so I joined.

It was not only good for my health but also for my spirit: under the guidance of the instructor, I noticed more and more details in the branches of the trees, I touched the grass and tree trunks, smelled the air and listened to the birds. While I admired the beauty that surrounded me, I put my Beloved Tara in my heart and thanked Her for it.

Nature in all its glory.

As I walked along, thoughts about the cycle of birth, life and death came to my mind. For nature it is easy to see: in the spring life emerges and blossoms, it reaches its apex in the summer, begins to decline in the fall, goes dormant in winter, and the cycle starts again, again and again ad infinitum. What about for us humans? What if we, like nature, went dormant and then came back? The answer to that is, of course, a personal search, it would vary, depending on our religious or philosophical beliefs, or non-beliefs, but one of the big questions is what happens after death? We know how our life began and how we were born, but death and what happens after is not something we know much about, except that our heart beat stops and we cease breathing; we do know death is inescapable, we think of it as sad because it is associated with the loss of a loved one, or as tragic when it happens suddenly, in an accident, for example, or associated with suffering when it occurs after a long illness. But is it painful? Is it something to be afraid of?

Science does not offer an explanation, however, there have been many accounts of NDEs, near death experiences, during which people were clinically dead, but then “came back” and related what happened to them during their “absence”. Books have been published, and recently a film entitled “After death” shown in cinemas across the country. In my area it was featured for one week only and did not seem to draw crowds! The day I went, in this huge theater with reserved seating, there were three women plus a friend of mine and myself. The film ends with the doctor saying that science does not have the answers; however, all interviewees said they felt love, that the “real world is there”, not where we live, some saw their loved ones who had passed away. None of the interviewees in the film seemed to be eager to “return to life”, they did only because they were told it was not their time. I was particularly moved by the account of the wife who was visiting her husband, hospitalized for very severe multiple injuries, till 11 pm every day; he was not able to respond to her, nor give her any sign that he was hearing her. One night she was so frustrated that, before she left, she told him she would not come back, then she saw tears on his face, he started to breathe again, and “came back”.  All interviewees changed their life after they “came back”: two of them became ministers.

In sum, although the doctor who recorded the accounts said that science does not have the answers, the interviews shed some light on a part of our life we know so little about.  If you have not seen the film you can find clips of it on YouTube.

From these NDE accounts, we learned that in that state called near death, there is love, a beautiful music, one sees one’s loved ones who passed away, and it feels so good that it is difficult to come back to one’s life. Are these things to be afraid of?

I have not had a tragic accident or illness that led to an NDE, but I recall a dream about a friend of mine: he was driving a red sport car – he loved sports car - with the top off and he was waving his hat, saying “it’s only to cross, it’s only to cross”, with a wink in his eyes. A few days later I learned from a mutual friend that he had passed away on that day. I understood that the dream meant he was saying good bye!  He did not seem to be in fear of anything there…

If you’ve had similar experiences, please do share them in the comments. Thank you.

___________________________________________________________

NOTE: to leave a like or a comment, please click on the title of the blog above, your first name is sufficient. Thank you.

The Search Continues

I am back after quite some time…

Designed by Freepix www.freepix.com

In my previous blogs I wrote about the Virgin Mary because that is what I learned from my mother when I was growing up. I talked about the miraculous apparitions in Italy and Portugal; I believe they were manifestations of the divine feminine which appears in different forms depending on the religion and culture of the country. At about 17 I began questioning what I had learned and wanting to form my own opinion. In a typical youth impetuosity fashion, I would say things like “who said Jesus is the son of God”, which raised eyebrows in my family!. At 19 I left my hometown in southeastern France for London where I spent a year attending classes in English. On my return I moved to Paris, France. A colleague at work lent me a book by the French philosopher Edouard Schuré, I think it was “The great initiates”. The book talked about Rama, Krishna, Hermes, Moses, Orpheus, Pythagoras, Plato, and Jesus. I can’t say I understood everything in the book, but it made quite an impression on me. A couple of years later my roommate in Paris introduced me to some members of a Japanese Buddhist sect which I joined; I heard about karma for the first time and started practicing. I continued in Rome when I moved there. My Paris roommate and friend left Paris for New York, but we stayed regularly in touch; one day she wrote to me about some yoga philosophy classes she was attending. She was very enthusiastic about it and thought I would be interested; during a trip to New York I had the opportunity to go to a class with her. I continued after I moved to New York myself.

Several years later I began a devotional practice which comes from the Vedanta School of Philosophy. It consists in worshipping, i.e. making offerings and praying to a chosen image that would appeal to me and is a representation of the Divine for me. I chose a small Tibetan sculpture in an Indian and Tibetan antiques shop; it represents a Tara, a powerful female deity in the Buddhist pantheon..

What It is really remains a question for me, but I use it in my search; my worship consists in making offerings, meditating on It and bringing It in my heart several times a day; I feel a presence, it is strong and beautiful.

_____________________________________________________________________________

NOTE: to leave a like or a comment, please click on the title of the blog above, your first name is sufficient. Thank you.

"Discovering" the Black Madonna

I grew up in a catholic family, in France, and then lived in Italy, but until I moved to New York City, where people of various cultures and religions live, I had no idea about the Black Madonna.                                             

One day I went to a performance by the Giullari di Piazza (the Gesters at the Square) at the cathedral of Saint John the Divine; the group, led by Alessandra Belloni and John LaBarbera, revived the old traditions of southern Italy through music and dance. Feeling nostalgic about Italian culture I enjoyed the music, singing and dancing honoring the Black Madonna. More recently, Alessandra Belloni organized a zoom performance of chanting and dancing in times of plague, or Covid-19![1].

Subsequently, during a trip to southern Italy, I visited Locorotondo (round place), a small town near Bari; I went into a church (I don’t remember the name of!), and for the first time I saw a statue of a Black Madonna on the altar.

Black Madonna on the altar of a church in Locorotondo, Bari

Years later I learned about the Black Madonna of Tindari, a town in the province of Messina, Sicily[2]. The sanctuary built in Her honor contains Her wooden statue with Black Infant Child and bears the inscription “Nigra Sum Sed Formosa”, I am black but beautiful, a statement attributed to the Queen of Sheba, from the Song of Songs of King Solomon, a Jewish and Christian sacred text. It is said that the original text was “Nigra Sum Et Formosa” (I am black and beautiful)[3].  According to the legend, the statue was smuggled out of Constantinople during the period of destruction of icons under Emperor Leo III (675-741 AD); a storm forced the ship to land on the shore of Tindari[4]. Sicilian people turn to Saint Mary of Tindari for protection; catholic and orthodox venerate the Black Madonna, She is represented in many churches in Italy, France, Eastern Europe and many other countries.

Black Madonna, Santa Maria in Tindari, Messina, Sicily (Clemens Franz Photographer, Wikimedia)

Interpretations about the darkness of the Black Madonna vary: at times it is said that black was the original color, while at others that it was originally white, but became dark due to aging and candles burning. I prefer the explanation given by Dr. Malgorzata Oleszkiewicz-Peralba, associate professor at the University of Texas and San Antonio: “She is the mother of universes, identified with the primordial darkness and chaos of the universe, and with the moist and fertile black earth.”[5]

Like Dr. Malgorzata, I believe the Black Madonna represents the Divine Mother whose appearance varies according to the culture: in Mexico City, She appeared as a dark skinned Indian, Our Lady of Guadalupe (whom I wrote about in my previous blog); in India She is venerated as Kali. 

As tragedy in Ukraine and other countries unfolds, may the Divine Mother answer the prayers for peace from all those who venerate Her, in all representations.

“DARKNESS is the one true actuality, the basis and the root of light, without which the latter could never manifest itself, nor even exist. Light is matter, and DARKNESS pure Spirit. H. P. Blavatsky, The Secret Doctrine

___________________________________________________________________________

NOTE: to leave a like, please click on the title of the blog above, as well as to leave a comment, your first name is sufficient; however, if you wish to subscribe to future blogs, your email is required, please rest assured it will be kept in strict confidentiality and not shared with third parties. Thank you.

[1] https://alessandrabelloni.com

[2] https://siciliangodmother.com/2012/11/04/the-black-madonna-of-tindari/

[3] https://mdpi.com/journal/Religions 2012, 3, 544–555; ISSN 2077-1444 The Global Consequences of Mistranslation

[4] https://historyofyesterday.com/the-mystery-of-the-black-madonna-a0503c5f537

[5] https://www.utsa.edu/ovations/vol8/story/black-madonna.html

For the women and girls of Afghanistan

On August 15th the Assumption of Mary was celebrated in the catholic tradition. Unfortunately, this year it coincided with the tragic events that affect particularly women and girls in Afghanistan; I feel sad about the situation and I pray/meditate every day for them. Perhaps you do too, whether you worship a white Madonna, a black Madonna, Kanon, Amaterasu, KuanYin, Kali, Shakti or another feminine divinity. 

Afghan women are mostly Muslim; Mary is mentioned in the Quran and is venerated. In my previous blog I wrote about the apparition of the Virgin Mary in Fatima and the Miracle of the Sun, the sun spinning on itself like a wheel of fire. I believe that behind the representation of Mary, there was a universal divine power who can appear to different people, according to their belief and culture, in a way they can recognize Her. In Motta di Livenza, Italy, and Fatima, Portugal, Mary appeared as a white Lady; but in Mexico, where Mexicans venerate Our Lady of Guadalupe, She appeared as a dark skinned Indian. I did not know about this story until a friend of mine mentioned it to me recently. I read it with great pleasure and am happy to share it with you.

It happened on December 9th, 1531 on Tepeyac Hill in the outskirts of what is now Mexico City. That day, an indigenous man by the name of Juan Diego - originally Cuauhtlatoatzin (“the Talking Eagle”) - who had converted to Roman Catholicism, was on his way to mass. Our Lady of Guadalupe appeared to him as a dark skinned Indian and spoke to him in his native language.

She told him to ask the bishop to build a shrine for Her on the hill. As the children in Fatima, Juan Diego encountered incredulity and was asked for proof. It came a few days later: on December 12th, Juan Diego was visited again on his way to find a minister to administer the last rites to his uncle; She told him his uncle would recover and after he mentioned the bishop’s incredulity to Her, on that winter day, roses appeared on the hill.

Juan Diego picked them, wrapped them up in his cloak and went back to the bishop; when he opened his cloak, dozens of roses fell out and the image of the Lady was imprinted inside. Juan Diego’s cloak, called a tilma, was made of cactus fiber. Convinced, the bishop ordered a church to be built on Tepeyac Hill in honor of the Lady. When he returned home, Juan Diego found his uncle’s health restored.

Juan Diego Cuauhtlatoatzin is now venerated as Saint Juan Diego, first indigenous saint of the Americas, beatified in 1990 and canonized in 2002 by Pope John Paul II. The Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City contains St. Juan Diego’s tilma with the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe. I found this analysis of the tilma by Massimo Paris, expert on the Sacred Shroud in Turin, Italy, interesting; in his words, “the tilma, made in 1531, is 41 inches wide and 67 inches high. While it was put together from cactus fibers and difficult to have a lasting image painted on it, the image has not faded and the cloak itself appears indestructible”.[1]

May the universal divine power that made the sun turn blood red at sunset in Motta di Livenza, spin on its axe like a wheel of fire in Fatima, dropped roses in winter and imprinted the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe on Saint Juan Diego’s tilma in Mexico, help the Afghan women and girls.

NOTE: to leave a like, please click on the title of the blog above, as well as to leave a comment, your first name is sufficient; however, if you wish to subscribe to future blogs, your email is required, please rest assured it will be kept in strict confidentiality and not shared with third parties. Thank you.

[1]https://catholicphilly.com/2019/12/news/local-news/expert-on-turin-shroud-guadalupe-tilma-shares-research/

The Apparition in Fatima

Lucia, Francisco, and Jacinta

Due to a wrist fracture, I have not been writing for quite a while. I am very grateful to all my friends and good neighbors for their kind and generous help. I am on my way to full recovery and feel blessed.

In my first blog I talked about the apparition of Mary in 1509 in Motta di Livenza, my birth place in Italy, my mother’s devotion to Her, and my visit to the Sanctuary in 2019.  Throughout the centuries, there have been many Marian apparitions in the world, of which one in PortugaI. I had the opportunity to go there when I was working as an international flight attendant in Italy. On one of my long lay over in Lisbon, I took a tour that included Fatima, the place where Mary appeared to three young shepherds in 1917.

Being raised catholic I had heard about it, but had no idea what the site would be like. When the bus arrived at the Sanctuary, I saw the enormous basilica, the Basilica of Our Lady of the Rosary, a huge parking for buses in front of it, and many religious souvenir shops nearby. I would have preferred just a small chapel and a pastoral landscape, almost untouched! However, I understood the utmost must be done to honor the Virgin Mary and to contain the millions of devotees who come from all over the world to worship Her.

Rocco Caligari’s shrine to Our Lady of Fatima in memory of his son Otto Bono, Stanley Park, Westfield, MA

Unfortunately, I did not take pictures; however, during a recent hike in Stanley Park, Westfield, Massachusetts, I discovered a simple shrine dedicated to Our Lady of Fatima: it was hand built (and donated to the park) by Rocco Caligari – a native Westfield resident - in memory of his son, Otto Bono, who died in the Korean Conflict in 1951. This father’s love for his son and devotion to Mary touched me; I took a picture which I am posting here.

In Fatima, I read about the Angel who appeared to the three children - Lucia dos Santos, then nine years old, her cousins, Francisco, eight, and Jacinta, six - to prepare them for the “visit” of the Virgin Mary. I felt sad that they endured ridicule from their friends, punishment from their parents and even arrest by the local authorities until the latter confirmed that the children were not making the story up; they really had seen the Virgin Mary.

People watching the Miracle of the Sun in Fatima

She appeared in 1917; at that time, WWI, which Portugal had joined, was raging; She asked the children to pray for peace and for the sinners. What struck me the most, and still does to this day, is the account of the “Miracle of the Sun”, which I found in a pamphlet near the Chapel of the Apparition. It occurred on October 13th, 1917; thousands of people were there to see it. One of the witnesses, Dr. Manuel Formigão, a professor at the seminary at Santarém and a priest, described what he saw this way: "As if like a bolt from the blue, the clouds were wrenched apart, and the sun at its zenith appeared in all its splendor. It began to revolve vertiginously on its axis, like the most magnificent fire wheel that could be imagined, taking on all the colors of the rainbow and sending forth multicolored flashes of light, producing the most astounding effect. This sublime and incomparable spectacle, which was repeated three distinct times, lasted for about ten minutes. The immense multitude, overcome by the evidence of such a tremendous prodigy, threw themselves on their knees."— [1]

What a similarity with the apparition in my native Motta di Livenza, when at sunset the blood red sun, which all people saw, was the confirmation that the Virgin Mary told Giovanni Cigana She would send; there was tragedy there too at that time, due to the plague that hit the area. 

After I left Fatima I wrote my mother about my visit, knowing she would love it. Skeptics have given various explanations to this “phenomenon”, but reading about the sun swirling on itself still fills me with wonder. I wish I could have been there myself on that day of October 1917! What was the extraordinary power behind the representation of the Virgin Mary the children saw? Was it, as in Dante’s Paradise “The love that moves the sun and the other stars”?

Dante’s Paradise by Doré

Note: To leave a comment or a “like”, please click on the title of the blog. You only need to enter your name but iyou can also subscribe to receive future blogs, your email will be kept in strict confidentiality. Thank you.

[1] https://www.ncregister.com/blog/so-that-all-may-believe-the-miracle-of-the-sun