“It is finished.” These were Jesus’ last words as he died on the cross that afternoon at Mt. Golgotha. His ordeal was over, his suffering had ended, he had given up his ghost. His family and devotees were left to deal with the reprecussions–the dangerous stigma of being associated with a convicted traitor of Rome.
As I’ve tried to absorb all the implications and messages of the stations over the last two or three years, I’m never sure what to make of the final three. They seem redundant, superfluous, and empty. By the time I’ve listened to 10th station, I feel like I’m done. Transcendance is the pinnacle, the culmination, and there is some difficulty with the symbolic, numerogical, and chakra correlations with these last stations. It’s entirely possible that the messages of these last three events are beyond my understanding at this point, but I trust that each has a lesson which resonates with some aspect of our human experience.
So if Jesus has physically died in the twelfth station, what has died in the pilgrim’s experience? My thought is that this represents the death of the delusion of ego. The dream of separateness has ended here, utterly. Our experience of polarities and opposites and taking sides and perceived persecution–it is finished.
For a period of about six months last year, I had stopped dreaming, or remembering my dreams. I retreated to Breitenbush for reflection and to attend the sweatlodge. I began dreaming immediately after my stay there. I dreamt that I was walking through the wooded part of the Grotto, and came to a cliff. I needed to step down the cliff to reach the elevator in the plaza, and in the dream, I had done this many times before, but this time I was afraid. I didn’t trust my footing, and thought I would fall. I imagined falling off the edge and disappearing into the dense brush. No one would find me. So I didn’t advance. I had the same dream about a week later, and realized after waking, that my fear wasn’t of dying or being hurt, but of disappearing. This was exactly my fear in the dream I had of Sara’s death three years earlier. It occured to me later, that if I didn’t fall, and I reached the elevator, that there was still no guarantee I wouldn’t disappear in the elevator, or wherever the elevator went.
Life would seem to be an experience of distinction, and death, extinction. We expend time and energy in our differentiation to maintain the illusion–through illness and affliction, persecution or achievment, gain or loss. If we haven’t prepared and softened to the prospect of disappearing, dying is the abrupt confrontation awakening us from this dream. Delusion disappears into awakening, fear disappears into love, and the individual disappears into the whole.
So here is II, polarity on the enlightened side of X, transcendance. Our navel, or second chakra is opened and vibrant and while it’s still concerned with the emotions, polarity, and magnetism, we are drawn like iron shavings back to our source, and the force of three is at work here–fruitful union, merging–creation. The union of life and death begets liberation, the Phoenix from its ashes.
We feel something irresistible at this station as we are drawn to oblivion and the all.