Texture Wheel
Art by Norman E. Masters

We are a living mirror, because of our free will, the kind of glass that Alice fell through to learn about herself.

We, the created world, are a Sacrament, an outward sign of the inward grace of the Absolute.

In our becoming, She is becoming (in both senses of the word).

My daughters made me a mother and then taught me how to be one, a changing one as their needs and (in)dependence changed.

If it is true that "the child is father of the man," is it not, likewise, possible that we are essential to the ongoing, living Mother/Father nature of God?

Which is why we must dance, and make love, and soak up rays. Our dance of ecstasy not only pleases Her, it fulfills Her.

God(dess) desires the full sphere of all our perspectives, all our ways of receiving from and giving to Her. Each being in the universe is engendered in and incarnates a unique aspect in Her beingness. Not only do we relate to Her uniquely, She relates to us uniquely. Like the spokes on a wheel, however, the closer we draw to the hub (to Her), the closer we draw to each other. In Sophia, ecstasy meets and melds with gnosis, service with delight, the wounded with the healer, and Martha with Mary.

Is it possible that Jesus was a living human metaphor of God, a metamorphosis of God?

We all speak in metaphor all of the time, selecting those words which represent the prototype that comes closest to matching the experience we want to re-present to our listeners. Words ARE metaphors, comparing the specific and situational to the generic and idealized. Some of us make more SENSE (related to the physical senses) of them by sticking close to the sensory experience of the specific; others make more SENSE (related to mental logic) of them by leaning more to the generic constructs they represent. All of us do some of both. Words are SACRAMENTS, outward signs of inward meaning. Let us remember that each speaker of words is holy -- precious yet full of holes. When we speak, we are "wearing ourselves torn".

I see Sophia holding the universe up and turning it round and round in Her hands, meditating upon us. The universe is also versatile, changing or fluctuating readily and containing diversity within its unity. Thus we experience this versus that, but the truth is unitary. We converse when we turn the matter around and look at it together from multiple perspectives. We also tell or celebrate our existence by putting it in verse, sanctifying the language and the experience. We become versed in what we attend to closely. Is the entire universe, perhaps, one large gazing ball for divinity?

I shall go to bed tonight to dream of being dreamed. It's all so dizzying that it may reel me beyond what is real into what is wise... which is where I started to begin with, I believe, in the mind of Sophia.

Love,
Merry Hall
January - June, 2001