You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘sweetness’ tag.

During meditation, fragrant balm from this text soothed my psyche and enlarged the sense of my destiny:

And I saw a new heaven and a new earth…the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. 

And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God. 

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

From the book of Revelation 21: 1 –5.

Only willingness is necessary to participate in this vision.

Seems to me that airy paperwhites, from the Narcissus family, bridge winter’s fury and spring’s first blushing. Easily cultivated indoors, the dun-colored bulbs, the size of Ping-Pong balls, line watery bottoms of open vases whose tangled roots are stabilized within chips of marble or other stones.

Rotating the potted vases within the sun’s late morning warming facilitates the growth of straight green blades and stirs anticipation for what is coming. After three weeks of tending and waiting and loving, clusters of white flowers exude heady perfume that sweetens kitchens, or wherever placed.

Aside from the paperwhites’ beauty, others take solace in its symbolism: purity, simplicity, new beginnings, and innocence—Even virginal in its wholeness.

However, a review of the Narcissus myth, as told by the Roman poet Ovid and others, affords a different spin on the origins of this delicate flower. Its first flowering resulted from the over-infatuation of the handsome Narcissus, of godly parentage, his spurning other’s attention, and his death related to extreme isolation by the side of a river. Through this tragedy, the gods must have perceived some kind of deliverance and marked its significance by this fragrant flower.

However this story evolved in its multiple versions, it was often represented on the frescoed walls of the wealthy, especially in Pompeii, and the works of Renaissance artists.

But the paperwhites, from the Narcissus genus, still arouse my spirit and fill me with gratitude for their Sacred fragrance.

How often have little girls identified with Clara dancing in the arms of her Nutcracker King and later found themselves holding onto the barre in mirrored practice rooms, stretching and standing on point? They would become like Clara, moving effortlessly within storied ballets.

Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker Ballet (1892) is one of these; it is loosely based upon the Prussian Romantic E. T. A. Hoffman’s fairy tale, The Nutcracker and the Mouse King. The resulting two-hour production penetrates imaginations and transports audiences, worldwide, to clashes between good and evil.

The ballet opens with the Stahlbaums and their children, Fritz and Clara, welcoming guests to their Christmas Eve party. A late arrival, Clara’s godfather and village toy-maker, presents her with a hand-carved Nutcracker whose grim countenance was to protect her from evil and surround her with good. But in the children’s ensuing tussle with the Nutcracker, it gets broken, and Clara grieves the loss of her protector before falling asleep beneath the Christmas tree.

Within her larger-than-life dream, the bandaged Nutcracker in her arms, she enters worlds of darkness and light: the vanquishing of the seven-headed Mouse King and his army of mice, followed by the sleigh ride with the Nutcracker King to the Land of Sweets, filled with dancers from around the world.  

The composer’s discovery of the celesta, in Paris, adds a tinkling to the ballet’s score and seems to lighten the intricate steps of the dancers. Especially is this true of the Sugar Plum Fairy who moves like breeze-lilting streamers in a rose garden.

No wonder that The Nutcracker Ballet has become a Christmas tradition through the generations.

Available on Amazon

%d bloggers like this: