We are not humans having a spiritual experience but spiritual beings having a human experience. (Pierre Teilhard de Chardin)
December 26, 2011
We have just experienced our first Christmas in Santa Fe, far away from everything we’ve known for over half a century. A very long time! This morning I felt a need to arise and watch the dawn ascend upon the mountains. As I write, the distant mountaintops are shimmering snow over lavender rock against a pale blue ski encircled in a pink misty glow fading back into blue grey. It’s hard to imagine how life was when all I saw were trees encompassing my world. Beautiful too, but not like this. The effects of distant mountains and a horizon of pure emptiness, shades of silver and grey, do thing to your soul that trees and smothering green never could ever accomplish. A friend/neighbor told me a guest from Tibet entered their home and immediately went onto their deck for a seemingly very long period of time. Confused at first, she was afraid that the house had somehow offended him. But when he finally entered the house smiling, he told her that it is no mistake that monasteries are high on the mountaintops. He said he was outside renewing his soul after the long journey. And the high desert does just that.
This Christmas season we had the privilege of experiencing Christmas Santa Fe style. If you ever have the opportunity to do the same, I highly recommend it. Santa Fe has not lost the meaning of Christmas, nor of spirituality obscured by material things. As I said in a previous blog, no focus on Santas aboard fire trucks opening malls here! Spirituality runs deep in the heart of Santa Fe and the desert. These harsh lands gave birth to thousands of years of very isolated traditions which have left their imprint on the heart of the land and its people. The many events taking place here are based on traditions. So many, it’s impossible to take them all in. I find myself looking forward to next year and the experiences of the things we missed this time around! But of that which I did experience I can now tell you the tales.
For years I have been looking forward to Las Posadas in The Plaza, and I was delighted that this year I would finally be a part of the celebration. My first impression was amazement at the events here that all happen in such an orderly fashion, seemingly without instruction or directions. That is an element which is frequently missing from life back East, but it is indeed what tradition is all about! “Old timers” to events here happily show the newcomers how it’s done, how it has been done for hundreds of years. People seem very natural and happy in sharing here. A ritual of sharing at one time insured survival, I suppose.
I have lived near Philadelphia my whole life, and this is not meant as a criticism but as a statement of fact— Philly crowds can be a bit unruly at events. I never remember attending anything in Philly that wasn’t a body crushing mass of overly exuberant (I mean loud) fans of the event, where shouting and loud conversations usually crossed twenty five feet or more. It seemed as if no one ever talked to someone within actual ear range. On this night in The Plaza, people began to gather for the event. Some obvious tourists asked what was going on, and since I had only read about it, I couldn’t offer more than sketchy details. As the sky darkened, seemingly out of nowhere carts filled with cardboard encircled candles arrived and slowly encircled The Plaza. People quietly walked up to receive theirs and to share them with others. And when the time was right, a few candles were lit by someone manning the carts, and those folks with lighted ones walked to pass them on to the rest of us until the entire Plaza was filled with a candle-lit crowd. As the Christmas lights sparkled on the snow, the song of a gentle guitar began. Mary and Joseph had arrived, and they began the journey to look for an inn for the night.
Followed by guitar players and a small chorus, they proceeded around The Plaza seeking
The devil appears on the rooftop
shelter at the surrounding shops. When they’d stop and ask for directions, “devils” appeared on the low rooftops and shouted down (in Spanish, of course) that there was “no room at the inn!” On cue, the crowd booed the devil’s response. Unlike Philly, there were no shouts of, “Hey, yo, Devils!!!!” followed by suggestions on where he should go. Just boos. Amusing, rather jovial boos, and we all delighted to get into the spirit by joining in. The crowd followed Joseph and Mary around The Plaza as they repeatedly asked for lodging, met by still more devils who had just popped out of a rooftop window to tell Mary and Joseph to move on. Eventually, they made it to The Place of the Governors where they were allowed to enter the courtyard. The crowd cheered and everyone was invited into the courtyard for bonfires and carols and cookies and cider. The courtyard was glowing from the warm golden light of the bonfires as we listened to the carols. It was pure Santa Fe magic!
The magical lighting begins to glow
But it was only the beginning. So many concerts and choirs and celebrations continued throughout the season. Christmas Eve was absolutely amazing. Recently, I saw what I thought was an incredible move by Emilio Estevez called “The Way.” For those who haven’t seen it, all I can say is that I’m sorry you missed it on the big screen, as the cinematography was amazingly beautiful and the last scenes impressive beyond words. But the video will still be impressive as the story is a simple and beautiful one about pain, friendship, spirituality and healing. The story is about a father whose son was killed on a pilgrimage on El Camino de Santiago, known as “The Way of Saint James.” The father heads to France to pick up his son’s remains, and then makes a decision to finish the journey in his son’s name.
I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought this up. And that takes me to another event in Santa Fe which happens on Christmas Eve. It is the Farolito Walk on Canyon Road. On this night, thousands of farolitos (small brown paper bags filled with sand and a candle) are placed along walks, rooftops, and ledges. We arrived early while it was still light. Some of the bags had already been lit, but it was too early and there was too much light to see the glow. We walked to the end of the trail, and since we had another appointment that night, headed back towards town as the sun was setting and the crowds were arriving to begin their walk. As we headed downhill towards town, night fell, and the thousands of illuminated bags worked their magic. It reminded me so much of “The Way,” in that people arrived and so quietly walked the road surrounded by the glow of thousands of candles in golden colored bags and bonfires which were lit as the night fell. The crowds were quiet, transfixed by the beauty of the candlelight, taking in the spiritual vibrations of the evening. Hundreds of people, children, elderly supported by loved ones, tourists, locals, people of all kinds, walking The farolito-lit “Way,” enjoying the glow in an almost meditative state. You could really not experience this in any manner other than quiet meditation. It was that impressive!
I have been thinking a lot lately about this move to New Mexico. I have some dear friends 
who have recently experienced losses and are having some of the difficulties of adjustments over the holidays this year. But I have told them about my philosophy of life— how change is a necessary part of our journey as spiritual beings. We have taken a huge leap to move across the country into a land so different from where we grew up. In all honesty, I never had a doubt in my mind that this was the right move at the right time. My husband is a bit more traditional than I and I think he had initial doubts. But out of love, he trusted my instincts, and we moved on. Thankfully, he has long ago agreed that this was the best thing we’ve ever done.
What I believe is that life is divided into two parts. The first half is earthly and physical. That is the period when people enjoy all the pleasures of the flesh, the raising of families, the dulling of the mind by outside sources. In excess, this can become an addiction, a vice. But it is a part of life. The second half (if we are lucky enough to have another “half”) is the spiritual journey. Or at least it should be, considering time is officially running out now! This half is our “Way of St. James.” And we can experience it any way we choose. I have made an official move, a break from all I’ve known, because the land here spoke to me and beckoned me to come to it. It is an ancient land which gives its own vibrations of the people who lived here and took their own spiritual journeys though life. Perhaps their journeys were taken in a more simple fashion than those of us who lived our lives on the East Coast. Seduction by the physical and the earthly were more our way of life in the East. Life is harsh in the desert, but it is simple. There are no distractions in “The Vast.” The blazing sun puts the earth to rest. Rain, when it comes gives it life once more. And the quiet soothes all the meaningless noise in our heads and gives focus to the more important sounds.
At a certain point in our lives, we feel a pull to another plane, another dimension. It is always present, but often ignored. Old habits are hard to break. But for those who follow the pull, we find ourselves surrounded by those of like minds. Sometimes those around us are meant to guide us, sometimes, we are the ones who were meant to guide. But there is no doubt that once we set forth on the second part of the journey, The Path will be presented, and those who are on it are meant to be with us as we travel. There are no accidents in life.
I feel blessed to have been pulled to a place as exquisite as New Mexico. On the records, it is considered to be one of our poorest states. But “the records” don’t record things of the most importance. In a harsh land, survival breaks down to simplicity. And in simplicity, people gravitate to importance for survival. And survival has always centered on spirituality. Drawn to The Spirit that guides. It is no accident that the desert and the harshest of lands have inspired spirituality and focus on The Creator. New Mexico is, in fact, one of the richest states in our Nation.
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