Winter Solstice, and the star in the East

The 21st of December, I spent the day being a goat midwife to a momma goat that wasn't supposed to be having kiddos in the cold. But nature had different plans.

My sister and I had been checking on our goat night and day, over and over. Our goat, Sugar Plumb (A name picked out by my niece) was looking as big as two boats. Yet she still wasn't hatching.

 Anyway, Bess and I thought she was due two weeks ago.

So we'd wake up, pop out of bed and check on her, first thing, because, well, it's freezing, bitter cold, and our barn is not that warm. It would get us out at the wee hours of night, where the sky is the clearest, and the frost is the coldest.

Some mornings I would get up just in time to watch the sun to peak up over the frosty mountains. And I got some very beautiful morning sun-gazing in. We'd check on that goat so much it was getting tedious. We started calling her, Mrs. Potts, as a watched pot never boils.

But the day of the winter solstice, the 21st of the 21st century, of the 21st year. She decided to give birth. Which I'm very happy that it was in the afternoon, and not three in the morning.

A few hours before she officially hatched, my sister asked me to go get the hack saw for the kitchen pipes that she was helping my brother fix, as the sink decided to be plugged, and frozen. Which is another story entirely.

The hacksaw was by the barn, so I decided to check on the goat as I was getting the saw.

 Sure enough, she---the goat, was in labor. I brought my sister the saw, and while she messed the clogged sink with my brother, I winterized the barn, while watching over the goat. Though she did take her time, and was very vocal in her sufferings. When she finally got something showing, it was rather odd.

It was the baby goats bum. Its little tail was sticking out of the mom's behind. A tail within a tail. It was not something I had expected. It caused me to panic, as baby goats are supposed to be born head first, not butt first. I tried pulling that little butt out, but it wouldn't come. It's quite frightening as they can get their feet all tangled up, and it's not so nice.

 So I yelped out for Bessie's assistance, but her hands were super dirty from messing with sink pipes. So she left to clean herself.

Meanwhile, momma goat decided she was going to push. So I decided to pull. I was talking to God this entire, time, and asked for assistance, and thankfully as I pulled, momma goat pushed, out that cute, white, little baby popped. Bum and all.  No hours of struggle. Whew!!

A perfect, white baby boy.

 I was super happy, and giddy. I started giggling, so glad, because it could have been a lot worse. And as it was just me, God, and the goat. I was very glad.

 Then after toweling off baby number one, baby number two decided to show its head.

And it was a big, big head, with a hoof.

That is also not too good. As they are supposed to come out with both their feet and head first.

 I tried pulling it out, but I was worried I was going to cut off its air, as it was feeling rather jammed in there. It was so big!  I yelped for Bessie's assistance, once again, and she came, and we both waited until the goat pushed, and Bess who is super strong, pulled that bugger out.

 This one was a huge, cream colored boy. Perfect as well.

We were all glad the goat finally hatched, and all was well.

I thought that momma goat was finished. 

Bess left. And I toweled off the little goat, then started stapling tarp over the barn, to keep it warm.

 Meanwhile, I heard Sugar Plump being vocal again. I peered back into the barn, and screeched. Baby number three's heads was getting squished up against the barn wall as it was poking out the momma goat's bum. And the momma was also smashing her other two babies, in the process. I swooped in, grabbed the babies, and set them out of her way. Then I pulled on baby number three, which also had only one hoof out with its head showing. But I pulled anyway, and out it popped.

 This one was a cute, little black and white girl. By that time, it was getting dark. I was cold, my feet wet and soggy, and we, myself and I, were ready to go inside.

 Since they were born on winter solstice, and since it was the 21st of December. And around that exact same date, last year, Jupiter and Saturn aligned to form the great conjunction, the Christmas star. I'm thinking of naming them, (though Bess might not agree) Gaspar (or Caspar), The white goat, Melchior, (Milkior) the creamy one and Balthasar. (Zar) The girl.

In honor of the three kings who followed the Christmas star to Christ. This time the tree little kid kings are born in a stable. Not a very warm one, at that.

 

Maybe the second coming will be a bit like that. We're all tired. Sick of gearing up. Going out freezing our hinie's off, and nothing's going on.  All of us tired of waiting. Getting up at the butt crack of dawn. And going numb because it's so nose hair freezing cold.

 

I remember watching for the Christmas star, last year, going out many, many times so I wouldn't miss it. The funny thing was, I pretty much missed seeing it by a stitch, as it was something that took its time coming, and then when it came, it went fast.

 It's hard to be a wise person, when you don't know exactly when to look, where to look, and what time. And it does get tedious.

I've been reading books by Paramahansa Yogananda, "The Yoga of Jesus," and several other of his books. He has a unique view of the Wise men when they came to visit Jesus.

His view of the wise men, following an eastern star, was that they were, in fact, wise men from India. Who were following the inner light. Their third eye. The star in the East. To Christ. To the light of the world.

He also said, and I'm paraphrasing---what would be the purpose of Christ second coming if his consciousness had not been born inside you? If all our hearts were not changed? 

It got me to thinking that his second coming, perhaps, will be not so unlike his coming of old. Plus, seeing how much we all can't seem to enjoy peace that much, and get bored with it, what would be the propose of a second coming? Unless his spirit was born in all our hearts. How else would we know him, even if he did come back, physically? What would it change?

Maybe his second coming will be subtle, when we are all sleep. Not how we picture it at all. When it is spit freezing cold outside, and super uncomfortable to keep our eyes open. At midnight. Coming like a thief, not to steal anything, but to take back what was already his.

The light of the world hidden in the most unsuspecting place. Tucked away in your own "stable." And only the wise find him. 

Coming at a time when men's hearts are literally failing them. A time when the entire world is being taxed by fear, bullied into submission, conditionality, made to bow to an egoic power not limited to governments, and the Caesars----but internal Caesars, and those closest to us.  Ourselves. Every person is making a sojourn to their place of origin. Seeking. Trying to procure something...

            We don't want to miss the event. But goodness, we are pretty tired. And try as we might, it's hard not to close our eyes. It's hard to see through the fog, and frost.

Our Inns, and our Outs are all very full. Psychologically all our outbuildings are brimming over as well. Even when we clear out space, people, events, our thoughts fill it up faster than we can keep it spacious. Objects, clogged sinks, Christmas, and life pulls you into object consciousness, all spare rooms become taken. We don't even have room in an old dog house, or something that he could perhaps squeeze him into. All our storage units are full. All our rentals taken. All real estate of the heart, rented, bankrupted, over drawn, repossessed.

If anyone comes knocking, beggar, thief, or the king of kings. It's not like we're especially wanting to answer. It's probably somebody wanting something. And we're just worn out from it all. And for good reason.

            But perhaps, if you're watching, peeking out your blinds, trying your best to make room, maybe we'll be able to be like the shepherds and wise men again. If you open your stable doors, full of cows, and sheep, and pigs, and poops, and make room for his light, your unassuming, mortal self, will remember the light within.  And you will be reborn.  Our consciousness will remember its immortality of its own soul. Christ will come again.

We are all little lamps. Some burning bright. Some a bit shaky. Some being lit, one by, one, until peace on earth is ultimately restored, and goodwill is all we will wish for everyone. A second coming that changes us all from the inside out.

One of my favorite gurus, Shunaymurti, mirrors a lot of my own thoughts in one of his beautiful videos.

Three baby goats. The star in the east. The wise men. The second coming. This is my simple Christmas message. But in closing, I thought I'd just share something I scribbled out in the middle of the night.

 

Aligned

When all crumbles, and the patterns of my life shatter. When all the bits I thought were me are scattered.

When the masks come off, and the veil is lifted. When grain is gathered, and the chaff is sifted.

When all I knew is seen clearly. And all who I loved so dearly.

When the real is seen, both good and bad. Will I let go of what I once had?

Can I let all the old stars fall that have lost their light? How will I know when to turn left or right?

 God be my Zodiac chart. Align my life to your loving heart. Fix my eyes upon your light, give me a second sight. Plant my soul in your galaxies, eliminate my mind's endless complexities.

Where moon and star dance above, fix me to your sunlight of love.

Predict my future, and move me at your will. You are my compass, my only thrill.

Like the star in the eastern sky, bring me into your all seeing eye. 

         Teach me the wisdom of the wise, where I can see through all the lies. Guide me to the king of kings, where men and angels sing. 

           Where the gold of grace, and love are found, where all are brought into your harmonic sound.