Maryangela (written when I was 50)

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Maryangela, my first spiritual teacher, hated when people made a fuss

over her and treated her like she was holy. She preferred to serve tea

and rye toast at her kitchen table to young people like myself who

enjoyed tea and rye toast and to converse in the most natural and

unpretentious way about "all and everything" that came to heart and

mind.

 

She tried to avoid having her photograph taken. She told me that "it

all showed on her face"; all the mistakes she had made; all the pain

she had caused; all of her personal failures. All that I could see on

that face was the depth of her heart of compassion.

 

Why do you call her a spiritual teacher, my friends asked?

 

She didn't claim to be a guru or teacher. She was just a woman who

devoted her life to putting lessons down in writing and in artistic

form which were the educational outreach of the American Orthodox

Church and to caring for the physical and spiritual well-being of His

Eminence, Archbishop James of Manhattan.

 

What did she teach you?

 

She taught in a very subtle way, often without words. She taught me to

"rest in the arms of the Mother" and that the Mother was always ready

to receive her children. She taught me how to put my passions over my

head and relinquish them to the light. She taught me how to bring the

light down, how to ground myself, how to become a Cross of Light and

how to pull myself in to protect myself from the pull of the need of

others.

 

When I went to her, I was eighteen. I hoped to be fully enlightened by

the time I was 21 or 25 at the very latest. She spoke of the Golden

Years, a time of life beginning at 50 when all the lessons, struggles

and pain of life would come to fruition. She'd smile a wonderful smile

and tell me what a blessing it was that I was already on the path at

such a young age; my golden years would be so rich. That seemed an

eternity away; not much of a consolation.

 

It seems like such a short time ago and now I am 50. I am greeting my

fifties with joy as I watch her predictions come true. I feel new

energy, new freedom, and the deepest fulfillment as I watch my

struggles give way to personal well-being and enhanced expression and

creativity. I feel that all things are possible and I still enjoy

resting in the arms of the Mother. I look to the future as a time when

I will make real contributions to the lives of the people I meet and to

the well-being of our planet.

 

Thank you, Maryangela, for the tea and toast; for the depth of your

compassion and the vision which you shared; and for the beautiful

picture you gave me of the Golden Years.

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