12/24/2025
Christmas 2025 — 12:25
This is not merely a time stamp.
It is a key.
Before empires fractured time, humanity moved with a living rhythm: thirteen months of twenty-eight days—lunar, embodied, coherent. Time as relationship, not control. One remaining day to realign the whole. No haste. No drift. No loss.
Within that harmonic order, this moment does not mark a birthday.
It marks a convergence.
Twelve is structure: cycles, constellations, gates of perception, the architecture of order.
Twenty-five is embodiment: fivefold life squared—senses, elements, directions—made present in form.
12:25 is the meeting of heaven and earth.
Order entering flesh.
Meaning touching matter.
This is why light appears here—across cultures, across ages—not by decree, but by geometry.
The lotus teaches it plainly.
It rises from the mud without rejecting it. Its base is wide enough for all traditions, all names, all paths. Each row of petals fills the gaps of the one beneath—nothing erased, nothing competing. As it ascends, the many resolve into coherence, and coherence into a single point of knowing.
The Christmas tree carries the same pattern into story: wide at the base, narrowing toward a star. Earth to sky. Matter to meaning. The lights are awareness awakening within form. The ornaments are memory and lineage. The gifts are circulation—life giving to life. Saint Nicholas is not a man, but an archetype: generosity without identity, abundance without transaction.
Gold is provision for incarnation.
Frankincense is atmosphere—breath, presence, reverence.
Myrrh is impermanence embraced—form released so essence may endure.
Not gifts for a baby.
Gifts for embodiment itself.
Hermes would call this correspondence.
Christ would call it the Kingdom within.
The Tao would say it moves without effort.
Different names. Same truth.
This time is not about what the media declares, what any single book asserts, or what authority insists. It is about recognition. Pattern over narrative. Love as the organizing intelligence through which hierarchy resolves into harmony.
Many calendars. One rhythm.
Many paths. One field.
Many voices. One silence beneath them.
Christmas 2025 — 12:25.
The moment the many remember they are one.
Those with eyes to see, let them see.