Jane Arie Baldwin

Personal Tools and Techniques for Unwinding

Category: Spirituality

Winter: The thinning of the veil



Originally posted November 12, 2009

As I sit here and look out over the river, the leaves, confetti-like in their enthusiasm to jump from the trees, fall to the ground to their final sleep. Like faithful followers drinking the poison punch, leaf after leaf falls with the turning of the wind. Soon the trees will stand naked, sleeping too, in a temporary sort of daze until the warm winds come again, next year.

Winter – the “thinning of the veil,” a time when nature perfects the concept of minimalism. In the winter there is nothing blatantly grabbing your attention with a myriad of colors and wings like the flowers and insects of the other months. In the winter you have to look for it, search it out. The stillness becomes much more magnified in the winter. It magnifies and stretches and yells and screams beyond our wildest imagination — if we can hear it. We can hear it. With the passing of every age the veil grows thinner.


My grandmother carried herself with passion, determination and an acidic bitterness for life that compares to meeting a rattlesnake face to face in the mid-day heat of a Texas August afternoon. As her memory slipped away she became more complacent, happier in her daily life,if only because she could no longer remember the travails of those who trespassed against her.

The veil had thinned. As she grew closer to the end of her life, memory or no memory, worldly importances faded and she delighted more in abstract joy without the need to magnify the darknesses she perceived around her. As the veil thinned she let more light into her life. Just as the leaves jump from the trees, thus allowing more light between the branches – thinning the veil, and thinning and thinning until it is no more.

Head & Heart Together at Last

Baby monarch caterpillar in my garden this morning. The ultimate symbol of transformation.

Baby monarch caterpillar in my garden this morning (with a few friendly aphids). The ultimate symbol of transformation.

We are living in a time when the head and the heart are learning to work as one unit. No longer is “I think therefore I am” the truth. Now days, the saying “I love therefore I am” holds just as much weight. It’s a great time to be alive because now the masculine (thinking head) and the feminine (loving heart) are coming into alignment. We are more and more considering both when we make choices thus improving our quality of life and our health.

This blog, first posted in 2009, illustrates succinctly this point.

Healing the Illusion of Separation
A few days ago my friend and Vedic astrologer, Marga Laub, mentioned in her newsletter that Friday night’s full moon was about, “Healing the illusion of separation.” I did not brace for any big lessons to show up on Friday night. I drove from Mineral Wells to Austin for a weekend breath circle and girl time. When I parked my car in front of my girlfriend’s house in East Austin I skipped a step in my usual process – forgetting to lock my car. The next day after the breathing circle, the morning rain clouds had passed, the sun shone bright and my eyes squinted. I reached into my console for my sunglasses. They were not there.

Where could I have put them. I pulled over and looked under the seat. I KNEW I had left them there. I felt an uncomfortable sensation throughout my body, one that felt like I had no support, a feeling of loss, a feeling that I had done something wrong.

They had to be stolen. Then I remembered I also had my ipod in the console. If the ipod was gone then definitely someone had been in my car and taken my things. I felt nervous and violated as I pondered the concept of loss and the emptiness that accompanies loss. For a moment I steeped in this place and then wondered, “How can I get out of this funky place?” The first thought that came to my head was to do the opposite of what I was currently doing.

Gratitude. That’s when I started to think about the positives. Well, my windows had not been broken, my purse had not been stolen, my car had not been hijacked. It wasn’t a violent break in. As break ins go it was very benign. It was not a confrontational robbery. I thought about having to hand those material possessions over to someone and I would have gladly done that with gratitude in exchange for my life. That’s when the magnification of the loss of these items began to shrink to the size of a pea and I could really feel grateful in my heart.

I pictured someone else with my things and had to laugh at the first feelings that surfaced which were very reminiscent of a breakup – imagining a lover loving another sort of feeling. I had to laugh, “It’s a pair of friggin’ sunglasses and a thingy I put songs and games on.”

Then something else happened. The thought of someone else enjoying these items made me happy. I thought, “Wow! If those sunglasses or that ipod can brighten someone’s day, more power to ’em.” I was able to feel love for these people instead of violation, grateful to them for reminding me that stuff is just stuff is just stuff. Who knows, whoever gets hold of that ipod may end up listening to some of the wonderful books that I downloaded (David Elliott’s – Healing and Relutant Healer, Ken Wilbur’s – A Brief History of Everything, A Course in Miracles) or some of the great music selections (Jimmy Baldwin’s – Vivador).

The next evening I ate dinner with a couple of friends at an outdoor cafe on East 7th. We watched the moon rise through the ancient twisted oak trees at the State Cemetery across the street. When I saw the moon I remembered…”this moon is about healing the illusion of separation,” and I felt the oneness all around.

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