I Saw Sophia on TV
Yesterday I saw Sophia on TV. I’ve been told to look for this Goddess anywhere because even though she can be evasive and shy (gun-knife-fist-boot-shy?), she can be found if you really want to find her. It’s one of Sophia’s mysteries how she can be everywhere and seemingly nowhere at all.
In the twenty-first century I can google Sophia, Goddess of Wisdom. I did just that and found 422,000 results, which I thought was a lot. On impulse I googled Angelina Jolie, Hollywood’s current goddess and got 21,300,000 results.
Look for her in unexpected places, I’ve been told. You’ll know you’re on track when you feel a deep, new, liberating relationship with all life.
I am you and you are me.
Which is how I knew I was watching Sophia on TV that day because that’s exactly how I felt seeing that image of the baby Afghani girl buried to her belly button in the rubble that was her home before the suicide bomber accomplished his mission. No more than a year old, she was still in her jammies, eyes wide and tearful; I think she was sucking her thumb. I saw Sophia there too in the mother, father, brothers and uncles digging frantically to liberate their precious living treasure.
I will even say Sophia was in the suicide bomber, though buried in a manmade soul-rubble of his own, a lust to win so deep she was impossible to discover.
This image of Sophia came from a newscast, just another passing picture of war, destruction, human and planetary suffering so common to the newscasts of today. It was one picture among many, a story with no end; and so I am compelled to imagine an ending of my own.
That night the Afghani girl-child lay recovering from minor injures in the hospital bed, swaddled in grateful loving family, lost in a peaceful healing sleep. Outside the hospital window Sophia pierces the darkness with impossible starlight. Through the long night she keeps the quiet vigil. When morning comes, Sophia is there to set the timeless war-torn desert sands on fire: red, orange, purple, turquoise, pink, shattering the night, and bringing in the brand new day.