As we dive deeper into this cycle of Scorpio–Cheshvan, we are also receiving, through the mystical teachings, the Nun Codes of Yeshua. These are 33 codes of awakening, which you can find summarized in my book Mary Magdalene: The Teachings of the Desert Rose. We also explore these teachings in greater depth within our Magdalene Ministry Priestess and Priest Training.
One of the Nun Codes is Riqan, which in Aramaic means empty, vacant, or devoid of something. It speaks of a space that has been emptied, a vessel that contains nothing, a place in which what was once present can no longer be found.
Yet when we enter this word through the contemplative mysteries of creation, we begin to encounter another dimension of its meaning. For emptiness may also become the sacred condition through which something entirely new is received into existence.
And I truly feel, as perhaps many of you do, that this is something we are experiencing within our collective humanity and upon the Earth itself.
We are witnessing demonstrations unfolding across European cities, wars in the Middle East, upheaval in so many parts of the world, and a growing polarization that seems to touch almost every aspect of human life.
We can see echoes of this in the time of Yeshua. He did not seek to reject the spiritual tradition into which he was born. Yet the immensity of his vision could not be contained within rigid interpretations of that tradition. He invited humanity into a new way of being, a new way of seeing, loving, and relating to the Divine. And his teachings challenged established structures of power so profoundly that he was ultimately condemned and executed.
What I find particularly profound is that Yeshua’s invitation was not simply to change the structures surrounding us, but to undergo a transformation of consciousness itself. He spoke of a Kingdom that could be awakened within the human being, a Divine reality that could be lived and embodied here upon the Earth. And perhaps this is why his teachings remain so deeply relevant today. For whenever humanity stands at the threshold of a new understanding, we encounter the tension between what has always been familiar and what is asking to be born.
And in the midst of all this, I return to the mystery of creation.
Before creation takes form, there is something the human mind struggles to comprehend: the unmanifest, that which exists beyond the boundaries of our perception, beyond the forms through which we have learned to recognize life. Before the Word became flesh, there was a vastness in which all possibilities rested within the Eternal, awaiting the sacred moment when what had remained hidden would begin its journey into manifestation.
I truly believe that the New Earth is a state of being, a state of perception, and, above all, a choice we make every day.
It is a choice in how we wish to live our lives, how we choose to love and relate to others, how we create relationships, and how we bring our creations into the world. It is a choice to live in Divine Union, to walk the path of the Anthropos, the True Human, and to embody the mystery of the inner Hieros Gamos, the Sacred Marriage.
Yet there is also the external world.
Yeshua speaks of the inner Malkuthā, the awakening of the Kingdom within, and I believe that when we consciously choose to live from this inner Kingdom, we begin to participate in the creation of the New Earth.
But the New Earth must also find expression beyond us, in the world we share.
And so I find myself asking: What can we do when the old ways of being seem determined to return? When we witness old patterns of power and control resurfacing within governments and nations, when wars continue, and when innocent children and human beings continue to suffer and lose their lives?
What do we do in the face of all this?
At this moment, I find myself returning to two things.
The first is to continue praying. To continue having faith, but faith understood through the Aramaic mystical word Haymanutha, a living relationship of trust between the human soul and the Divine.
I have faith in You, Heavenly Eternal One, and You have faith in me.
There is something profoundly beautiful in this reciprocal relationship, in knowing that as we place our trust in the Divine, we are also invited to recognize the Divine trust placed within us.
And the second is to look deeply within ourselves and ask what we are still holding on to that belongs to the old.
The old perceptions of who we should be. The old judgments we continue to carry. The inherited ideas of what a woman should be, what a man should be, how we should live, how we should love, and who we are allowed to become.
What within us is still clinging to ways of thinking, perceiving, and relating that no longer belong to the consciousness we are seeking to embody?
And what if we could simply take the time to enter Riqan?
To empty ourselves of it all.
To release the old perceptions, the judgments, the expectations, the identities, and the stories we have carried for so long. To allow the vessel of our being to become spacious enough to receive something entirely new.
To throw it all away and enter into the New.
Why are we holding on so tightly?
This is the question that keeps arising within me.
Why do we continue to cling to what has already caused so much separation and suffering, both within ourselves and within our collective humanity?
Perhaps this is where the mystery of Riqan becomes so important in our lives today. For if we wish to experience a New Earth, we must also be willing to release the old within ourselves, to enter the sacred emptiness where another way of being can emerge.
And perhaps this is one of the ways we begin to bring our experience of the New Earth into the external world: through the choices we make, the consciousness we embody, the relationships we create, and the love we are willing to bring into the world.
I would truly love to hear your thoughts on this contemplation.
What are we still holding on to, individually and collectively, that is asking to be released?
You can share your reflections in the comments below.
Thank you for being here.
AHAVA,
Ana Otero
