Instituto Anemos

Christmas is not only a date. It’s a recurring symbol, a lantern that crosses centuries without losing its glow. The image of a child, so small and yet so central, touches a hidden nerve of the soul: the feeling that something essential can be reborn quietly, without applause, without needing to “prove” itself.

In symbolic psychology, the Divine Child is not immaturity. It is the opposite of cynicism. It is the part of us that can still begin again, trust a little, learn again, and play without apology. The Divine Child carries the future. And that is why it can feel frightening: because the future requires risk, and risk requires vulnerability.

When adulthood hardens, it often creates a fantasy of control: “If I plan everything, I won’t feel.” But the soul does not live on spreadsheets. It lives on meaning. And meaning often arrives the way old stories tell it: on an ordinary night, in an unlikely place, with few resources, yet with an unmistakable presence.

Perhaps the gentlest message of Christmas is this:
the sacred is not born on a stage. it is born in the inner stable.
Where we hid what is fragile. Where we protected what is pure so it wouldn’t be harmed. Where we tucked hope away, disguised as “nothing special”, so no one would steal it.

Then comes the question that changes everything:
if the Divine Child were born inside you today… what would it be like?

• Would it ask for comfort or for a path forward?
• Would it ask for play or for rest?
• Would it ask your adult self for protection, or simply for permission to exist without performance?

Christmas is an invitation to reconciliation: not between “being strong” and “being sensitive,” but between being whole and being true.

A Christmas micro-ritual (2–7 minutes)

1. Small light: light a candle (or use a bright white screen if that’s what you have).
2. Hand on the heart: breathe slowly 5 times and whisper:
   “I protect what is being born within me.”
3. Minimum act: offer something simple to your Divine Child today:
   tea, a warm shower, 10 minutes of music, a quick sketch, a short prayer, a gentle walk.

Nothing grand. Nothing theatrical. Just true.
This is how the Divine Child grows: fed by consistency, not fireworks.

Art and text: Instituto Anemos- Angela Paulette