Ash Wednesday

I happen to love Ash Wednesday. As an Episcopalian, the service I attend is one of penitence, humility, reverence, preparation and hope. The beauty of the Anglican language never ceases to amaze me with its elegant prose, uniting prayers and call to self-examination. By looking at the season of Lent, in even more than dateson a theological calender, we can open the pathways to greater understanding "for us and for all mankind". The altar is stripped of all outward expressions, with the exception of the barest essentials. For the next six weeks, we have the invitation to draw closer to God, as well to our own inner selves. It's an invitation I don't take lightly. I treasure this time to reflect, to examine my heart and to prepare myself to move forward inspirationally, intellectually and intentionally.

Because I did not grow up in a religious household, the true meaning of Lent has come into my life as a teen, and then as an adult. I used to admire and even envy the kids who came to school with ashes on their foreheads. I thought those ashes signified a club of which I was not a part, and never would be. The smugness that came with those ashes didn't help matters. And, of course, it made me *want* the ashes all the more. As I can to truly understand the significance of them, as a teen, I realized that the "holier than thou" attitude that came with some of the ashen as they walked into class late bearing a note, along with their forehead bearing excused badges, was completely counter to the meaning of Ash Wednesday: which is a time of sincere reflection, self-examination and true humility of 'our own faults'. The outward ashes should simply reflect the symbol of the work that's going on inside one's heart and spirit.

When I attended my first Yoga teacher training session, I was blessed to learn the following prayer:

From darkness to light;

From ignorance to knowledge;

From fear of death to the understanding of the soul's immortality.

How completely amazed I was to learn that this was not a Christian prayer, but rather an yogic one....and yet, how much it spoke to my heart about preparing for Lent, beginning at Ash Wednesday.

The quest for inner understanding, and the need to prepare ourselves to become 'that which we have the potential to be', is not unique to the Judeo-Christian traditions. Many of the Native American religions required a period of ,interestingly close to, 40 days in the wilderness to pray, fast and listen to the spirit. The Buddha wrote, "Life is but a journey. The passing years are but dust, and we shall all return to the dust." It's incredible to me that so many belief systems share such remarkably similar imagery.

Soo, it's my call to you, to light the candle of your spirit. For the next forty days, take time each day to reflect on the kind of person you are right now, and the kind of person you wish to be. Try not to judge yourself (or others, for that matter) but simply acknowledge where you are on the journey. By figuring out that you are on Start at the beginning of a quest for self-knowledge and discovery, you will already be well on your way to your destination: hopefully, a peaceful, enlightened, contented and kind soul, whichever path you may follow. It's not always easy to look inward so intently. It's even harder to truly perceive our own faults. But, because of this extraordinary time of year, in which days grow longer and brighter, we are given the gift of possibility and change.

I pray the next forty days are meaningful for you in innumerable and contemplative ways.