Magi knew

There are moments in the year when time thins, when the veil between the ordinary and the eternal feels almost transparent. Christmas is one of those moments. But this Christmas — at the close of 2025 — feels different. Not gentler, not easier, but more insistent. As though the light itself is knocking harder, no longer content to seep through the cracks of our lives, but determined to pour through us fully.

A lot of this means asking ourselves honestly: How have we really started working on ourselves? Or have made a clear commitment to evolve and be better versions of who we are?

Because Christmas, beyond the glitter, traditions and rituals, can be seen symbolically as the bringing in of the Christ Light — the way the Baby Jesus came into the world. I believe that the Light is within each of us. Yet many of us are still caught up with our shadows. And this is the challenge as this year comes to a close: the shadows should already have been released.

We speak often of letting go, but release is not a poetic concept — it is an embodied act. The Chinese calendar reminds us that 2025 moves under the sign of the Snake, whose wisdom is shedding. Snakes do not negotiate with old skins. When it no longer fits, when growth demands space, the skin is left behind. This is not loss; it is survival. It is evolution.

Beyond the traditions of family reunions, dinners and parties, have we been taking deeper stock of our lives vis-à-vis the dramatically changing energies of the cosmos? It is as if many of us live in a bubble — busy, distracted, insulated. And allow me to burst it with this thought: unless we begin to seriously work on ourselves, bringing light to the parts of us that need to change for the better, then you are facing the coming year with “same-old, same-old.” And 2026 will arrive as a great shock to your system. This is not said to frighten, but to awaken. Let us shed the old as this year goes. Let us bring in the Light as the Christmas tale is told.

What makes this Christmas different from all the others? It feels as though the light is forcing its way through the wildness of the times — through wars, ecological grief, collapsing values and moral confusion. The darkness of the world is no longer hidden. It is upon us. We hear it even in places of faith. I have sat in Mass and heard priests quietly allude to apocalyptic times (saying it quickly, as though not to linger on the subject they cannot explain properly). I have heard evangelical preachers cry out on stages, urging people to return to scripture, speaking of signs in the sun and moon and stars. These are not fringe voices anymore. They are echoes of a collective unease — an intuitive knowing that something is ending, and something else is struggling to be born.

Which brings me to the part of the Christmas story that has always resonated most deeply with me: the visit of the three Magi. The Magi were astrologers. Wise men from the East who studied the heavens. How did they know? Astrology has deep roots in Persia and the Middle East, said to have begun in Mesopotamia and refined by the Persians. These civilizations watched the sky not as entertainment, but as revelation. They understood that the movements of the stars mirrored divine order. This is the civilizations from which those three wise men emerged from. They read the heavens and recognized that something extraordinary had entered human history — not in a palace, not with fanfare, but as a child. Because they read the stars, they knew when to move. And when they arrived, they brought gifts.

I resonate with this deeply, because I, too, read the stars. And the planetary alignments are speaking loudly now — urgently — at this stage of our evolution. All I can say is this: it is not business as usual. And I sincerely hope it is not Christmas as usual either.

The cosmos is not whispering comfort; they are calling for spiritual maturity. For responsibility. For conscious participation in what is unfolding. This is why release matters so much now. You cannot step into a new cycle wearing an old skin. You cannot embody light while clinging to resentment, fear, ego or denial. You cannot embody Spirit if the Ego and the Material world holds you in its grip. The Snake teaches us that shedding can feel raw, even vulnerable — but it is the only way to grow.

Let us help the light come through us — not through a crack, but bathe through us — so we can shine like beacons. This is not about perfection. It is about willingness. About saying yes to inner work, to compassion, to choices that serve the many and not just the few.

The Magi knew because they were paying attention. They aligned their lives with what they saw in the heavens. They trusted that knowledge enough to act.

This Christmas, perhaps the invitation is the same. To pay attention. To release what no longer serves. To honor the light within us by living differently — not later, not next year, but now. Because the light has already arrived. The question is: Are we ready to receive it?