Yesterday, in this part of the world, we honored the Winter Solstice which heralds the shortest day/longest night of the year. My annual experience brings me back around to the home of my friends Deva and Stan Troy where we gather with kindred spirits to celebrate the warmth of friendship in the midst of the cold of the season. One ritual includes passing the Yule log into which we symbolically place what it is that we wish to release. As the wood moves from hand to hand, we either verbalize aloud or in the silence of our minds. The out loud declaration allows me to have accountability partners. I stated that I was letting go of anger, resentment, judgment and fear. All of them have placed impediments in the way of moving forward in my life. Deva, who leads the evening’s experience, remarks that the log actually feels heavier by the time it gets to the last person who places it in the fire to take our thoughts up the chimney in sweet smoke. We then write what we want to call into our next 365 days. I welcome complete and total wellness and love and abundance in all forms. I believe in the power of intention, merged with inspired action, so I am doing all I can to see it come to fruition.
One of my favorite parts of the evening is reading a poem that ‘wrote me’ 10 years ago. As I say the words aloud, they never cease to amaze me … not because I penned them, but because I was invited to be the hollow reed through which they were played.
The Birth of the Divine Child
As winter’s darkness descends, our hearts tremble. But is it of fear or celebration? Dread of the shadow or anticipation of the Light? Ask of the voice within that knows all things for what they are. And wait in silence for the answer to arise. Still your mind of the busy chatter that fills it to capacity with all that does not serve. Within the comfort of the shadow realms, take a moment to look about. Put aside your trepidation, for in truth, there is no cause to hide. We are of that soft shadow just we are of the Light that will soon replace it. In order for new life to spring forth, the seeds of that anticipated growth require the blanket of rich, moist soil to embrace them. The intelligence within those seeds knows that they must lie dormant for a bit. Think that they worry? Not likely, for they are one with nature. They know no separation. So why must we?
On December 21st, we welcome the birth of the New Solar year and the onset of winter. God and Goddess dance as one in the forms of the Great Mother and Sun Child. Swirling and soaring, melting the chill from our bones and souls. Enticing us to join in the ballet of Being. Crimson like the blood that flows through our veins, moss green that carpets the earth, feather white that gently blankets the reaching branches, stretching to the heavens, asking for a blessing from All That Is. The message from the One is of trust that all is well, despite appearances. It is of shifting our focus from darkness to light, from terror to safety, from condemnation to affirmation.
As the Light ascends, so too do we. Rising from the depths of self-doubt into certainty. Expanding from our limited view of what we can do into All that we Are. Surrendering with arms cast wide in the knowing that we will be safely carried into the next moment. Recognizing the sacred in each act of love, each word of support, each thought of kindness. Seeing the Highest in each soul. Embracing what is so. Cultivating wisdom. Creating from our hearts’ desires. Emboldening our passions. Singing a celestial song with words of Divine origin. Stretching our comfort zones.
And as we do this, we witness the Birth of the Divine Child within us. Blessed Be.
It also marked the 16th anniversary of the death of my husband, Michael. He took his leave and crossed the threshold between this reality and the next on the Winter Solstice in 1998. In the interceding years, I have both grieved his death and celebrated his life. I have felt every emotion known to humankind, since we had what I referred to as a ‘paradoxical marriage’ that had elements of the best and worst aspects of relationship. For far too long, I had carried anger and resentment, judgment and fear as a way of coming to terms with the push-pull of the loss. I had imagined that I could protect myself from the darker aspects happening in another relationship, if I was aware of how they manifested in that one. Awareness, yes. Remaining a prisoner of those perceptions, no. At the Sunday service of one of my interfaith communities, called Circle of Miracles, I had a breakthrough and was willing to be willing to let them go. And then I was willing. And then I could literally feel myself relinquishing them through torrents of tears. I pray that I keep them in that soil in which they are now planted, watered by those tears, so that come the turning of the seasons again, they blossom into something beautiful.