May — The Night of Power
“Aifa,” grandmother whispered, although nobody in the house was sleeping. “Are you ready, granddaughter? It is time to go to the Hearth.”
Aifa wrapped her garment a little tighter around her waist and washed her face with the rose water her mother had made, put on her shoes and walked in silence behind her grandmother, stepping purposefully on the old stone paving, under the eerie brightness of the full moon.
There was no wind in the air, there were no clouds in the sky, and the perfume of the lilacs filled Aifa’s lungs like the essence of an ancient mystery, as if its fragrant flowers wanted to partake in the holy time when the spirit itself came down from above.
“Every step, a blessing,” Aifa thought. “Every step is blessed a thousand fold on a night so filled with power.”
She didn’t know if it was to be that night, however, nobody did. Everyone was trying to guess, of course, by the brightness of the moon, by the fragrance in the air, by the peace in their hearts; nobody really knew when the spirit would come, but it always came, sometime around the end of the month, and brought with it heavenly peace until the break of dawn, peace, love and forgiveness beyond human understanding.
“Don’t trouble your mind, granddaughter. It will come when it wills. You better occupy yourself with the contemplation of your own spirit. Have you made your plans for this year?”
It was customary for the people of Cré to ponder over the life they had led during the course of the previous year, evaluate their deeds, both good and bad, and make plans for the one to come.
“When the spirit comes you need to be ready to present your list of wishes, and it’s not a bad idea to start doing that early, before the invocation starts. You did make a list to bring with you, I assume?” she asked.
Aifa nodded, so grandmother continued.
“And, granddaughter, whatever you do, do not fall asleep. You don’t want the spirit to come and find you asleep on the most powerful night of the year.”
“What wishes can I make, doyenne?”
“That’s between you and the divine, granddaughter. If your wishes are just, and pure, and lovely, why shouldn’t they be granted you?”
“What about wishes for myself?” Aifa asked, just to make sure.
“Especially those. If the spirit doesn’t help you accomplish your goals for your own life, then who will? There is no blame in wishing good things for yourself.”
“What about forgiveness, grandmother?”
Aifa continued her sequence of questions, despite the fact that both of them had been planning to spend their time walking to the Hearth in quiet meditation on the greatness of things on high.
“We could all use a lot more of that,” grandmother frowned, and looked sternly at her granddaughter to make sure the latter wasn’t making light of things.
Aifa passed muster, so they returned to their quiet stroll under the stars. Aifa kept churning things in her mind, going over a million things she wished she could accomplish in the year to follow, and wondering if she could ask for a little help from the spirit, for when her Caretaker duties got a little out of hand. She didn’t know what she was doing half the time, there was nothing predictable about the Twins, whose every move seemed to bring about a new surprise, and if there was a task for any human being where divine help would have been appreciated, this was definitely it. Her mind turned to an even more practical matter.
“What if it’s not tonight, doyenne?” Aifa asked, looking at the sky and trying to guess one way or another.
The night was so beautiful, so fragrant and so quiet, it seemed almost a pity for it not to be the one. There was nothing but harmony and peace all around them, no sound other than their soft footsteps on the old stones and the songs of the nightingales.
“If not tonight, then the night after tomorrow, and if not then, two nights after that. Just be patient, granddaughter. We don’t know when the spirit comes, but we know it will come.”
“But what if it doesn’t grant my wishes, doyenne?” Aifa asked, hoping for her grandmother to contradict her, more than anything.
“This is not going to work, child,” grandmother laughed at her granddaughter’s attempt to get her wish fulfillment guaranteed by an elder, prior to the descent of the spirit. “Do you not know that doubting the spirit will grant your wish is a sure fire way to have it rejected? Whether it does or it doesn’t is a question for the divine, not me. Trust that they will be granted, for if you don’t have the trust, why make the wish at all? It is your task to make your wishes and present them. That is your job tonight, so apply yourself to that task and do it as best you can. You must always remember that you have to complete your tasks first, then ask the spirit for help.”
“If only it were that easy,” Aifa thought, but didn’t say anything to her grandmother, for fear it would upset her. “How can one make any plans for one’s life if one never knows what tomorrow will bring?”
She thought she might put on her list of wishes to get a little insight into what life got in store for her, and wanted to ask her grandmother if that was an acceptable request, but then reconsidered.
“If only I knew what mistakes to avoid, life would be so much easier!” she said out loud, without even realizing it.
“Life is not about avoiding mistakes, Aifa. We all make mistakes. Only the divine doesn’t make mistakes. And the dead, I think, I’m not sure. As long as we are in this life we’re only required to do the best we can and keep a pure heart. At this time of year all you have to do is ask the spirit to wipe away all your mistakes, and then you can start anew. Have you finished all of your readings?” she asked, without any transition.
“Yes, doyenne.”
“Well, then we do have even more to celebrate.”
They walked in silence a little longer. “Every step a blessing, every step a blessing,” Aifa’s thoughts kept the cadence of her feet, counting each step on the stairs that opened out into the Market Square. The bright moon bathed them in light now, and the air was so warm it felt like summer. The girl had grown quiet, and the multitude of her tasks burdened her heart and creased a frown between her eyebrows. Grandmother noticed.
“Don’t let your heart be troubled, granddaughter. Not on this powerful night. Don’t dwell on your cares and your worries, for these things will pass. Rest your soul on the compassion, love and mercy of the divine, and its spirit will grant you peace. Nothing can be accomplished without peace of the spirit. Maybe that would be a good thing to add to your wish list.”
Aifa was so deep in her own worries and thoughts she hardly heard her grandmother, but when the latter stopped talking, she took notice and nodded, to signal that she understood.
“Don’t make your wishes with an inattentive heart, child. How is the spirit going to pay attention to them if you can’t even pay attention to them yourself? Pay heed to the words you say, especially in invocation, it is your own passion and the openness of your heart that brings them to the attention of the divine. And don’t be afraid to ask for anything. No wish is sinful or selfish, as long as it is for things that are good and pure. You just ask and be patient. If your wish be granted, it be granted, if not, it will not. Your part is to do the asking and then trust.”
As if by miracle, Aifa’s worries lightened, unburdening her spirit. All of the sudden the beauty of spring and the happiness she experienced just watching the Twins run through the valleys and wonder at everything overwhelmed her. There was nothing in creation that Ama and Jal didn’t deem worthy of exaltation. Quite often, Aifa would notice them staring in awe at something, for minutes on end, and when curiosity got the better of her and she approached them, she saw that it was a single blade of grass, or an ant carrying its heavy load back to the anthill. “How far removed,” Aifa thought, “are we from the very miracle of life, that the entirety of existence, whose complexity our mind isn’t even able to encompass, passes us by unnoticed and gets drowned in our cares.”
She didn’t really know what to think about that, she felt a little embarrassed all of a sudden, by the fact that if the spirit could hear her thoughts, which the spirit was sure to do, it probably listened patiently for some response on her side, to confirm that she knew it was there and was aware that it waited for her. She panicked for a second, evaluating her whole unprocessed train of thought, an amorphous mix of worry and elation, physical discomfort, petty upsets and escapes to the future and the past. The mix felt more random than a bag of rocks: no two thoughts alike, none useful.
She decided to focus her attention on something worthwhile, like love or forgiveness, but every time she tried, the random pile of nonsense, so common to people’s routine thinking that they don’t even notice its burden, clouded her judgment. Then, a thought occurred to her: what if she asked the spirit to take this burden away from her, so she could have room for things that were worthy and beautiful, and so was the wish granted her, in an instant, with so little effort that the spirit’s response jolted her and touched her heart.
She didn’t know how to respond to this grace, she felt awkward and small, and didn’t understand what she did to deserve it. The moon’s rays touched her forehead, and her shoulders, and the palms of her hands, like a soft caress. Her daily life passed before her eyes and she remembered all of its joy, her grandmother’s wisdom, the safety of her home, her mother’s love, the Twins running through the daffodil meadow. Those images came to her mind as if somebody or something had placed them there, to guard against unpleasant thoughts and make her happy.
Aifa found plenty of room in this state of mind to plan what she wanted to learn over the following year, and to make a list of the questions she wanted to ask, and another one of personal requests. She remembered to add her family and the people of Cré to her list of supplications, to ask for their health and prosperity, and even remembered to add the Twins, who, in her opinion, probably didn’t need anything, considering who they were.
When she finished the list her mind was sharp, and all of her tiredness seemed to have vanished. Right before she stepped through the doors of the Hearth, she tightened her garment around her waist again.
The young girl was still struggling with the thought that there was nothing she could give in exchange for this pouring of grace, nothing that would be good enough for the divine spirit. What could a human give that was enough? Immediately a thought popped into her head, sounding so much like a response that she had no doubt where it was coming from.
“Why don’t you just say ‘thank you’?”
She looked at her grandmother, to see if the latter was aware of what was happening to her, but her doyenne seemed to have immersed herself in her own inner landscape, to sort out her thoughts and her wishes for the night. She looked for the Twins, which were asleep, the only sleeping beings in the entire Grand Hall, probably on account of the fact that their very existence constituted enough of a blessing that they didn’t need to ask for more, and their hearts were so pure that they never did anything that needed forgiving. Their pure simplicity and joy reassured Aifa that life was a lot less burdensome than she had made it to be, so she opened her palms to receive it, counted the many blessings she already had, and said ‘thank you’.
