Advent and the Wisdom of the Threshold

Before the 7^th Century in Western Europe Advent was not a cosy countdown to Christmas.  Its observance was closer to Lent with restraint, fasting, penitence and an inner preparation for the celebration of the birth of Jesus.  Advent then started on November 11^th and like Lent, it was 40 days.  It was a deliberate slowing of life in readiness for something sacred to arrive.

 

This 40-day penitence is still the case in Eastern Orthodox Christianity, where the preparation for Christ’s coming is abstinence, almsgiving and fasting which gradually increases the closer it gets to Christmas day.

I am actually writing this on December 14^th, Gaudete, the third Sunday of Advent which was traditionally the one day when the strictness softened and joy was allowed to surface in the middle of restraint. Churches still sometimes mark this by lighting a pink candle, a sign that light is near, even if the waiting is not yet complete.

This was very much about preparation, clearing the space for Christ’s arrival, inviting light into the darkness, making room for something holy to arrive.

Unlike Lent, which is a discipline of purification, Advent was a discipline of expectation, a threshold where you are not inside yet, but not totally outside yet.  You are at the door knowing someone is coming but not yet celebrating.  You are not cozy yet.  You are awake.

 We often forget the power of the threshold.

 What we have done in modern times is collapse this threshold into the destination of endless celebration.  An enormous subtle power and reverence is lost in this.

The early church understood something we have largely forgotten:

Prepare carefully.
Celebrate fiercely.

This rhythm of restraint before revelation is not unique to Christianity. It is one of the most consistent patterns across genuine spiritual traditions where preparation is not an optional spiritual preference. 

We prepare our inner ground, reflect on our ethics, morality, calm our body, our mind, our emotions.

Those of you who have attended our Breath of Life and Meditation trainings, will know how much importance is put on the preparation that is needed to reach high levels of consciousness.  These higher levels of consciousness embody joy, wisdom, peace, love, bliss.  This is why we make the efforts, why you are even reading this blog right now.

 We long for these states deeply. That longing is understandable. I feel it too.

This is part of the attraction of psychedelic substances, intense breathwork practices, and other methods that can offer rapid access beyond a narrow material view of life. They may open a window into states of joy, unity, or meaning that feel profoundly real. For many people, this glimpse shows that life is so much more than we thought.

At the same time, these approaches often bypass the gradual preparation that helps the nervous system integrate what has been touched. Without that readiness, experiences can arrive faster than the body and psyche know how to hold them. This can leave people unsettled, ungrounded, or struggling to integrate what they have experienced.

Over the years I have supported many people after these fast approaches have gone wrong, helping them re-establish stability and balance in themselves. Because of this, I now emphasise preparation. Not as restriction, but as care.

Preparation allows depth to unfold in a way that can be harmonious to our individual needs and levels.

Advent reminds us that the long way is often the truer way.

Preparation isn't a pause in spiritual life. It is the work that makes depth sustainable.  It strengthens, purifies and stabilises the body and nervous system, clarifies attention, and brings a steadiness that allows insight to imbue deep within us rather than overwhelm.

Correct preparation allows us to expand, rise up without collapsing and weave into the fabric of our being these high states of consciousness constantly spiralling upwards.

Without this preparation, glimpses of transcendence remain just that – glimpses, which may remain brief and disorientating. They can inspire, but they may also leave a subtle sense of imbalance or restlessness, especially when there is no steady inner framework to support them.

With preparation, something different unfolds. Daily life begins to feel more alive, vibrant, more inhabitable. Presence deepens.  The meaning of life begins to show itself without needing to be chased.

The older way of observing Advent stands as contrast against modern urgency by the creation of an active, attentive threshold preparing the ground for holiness.