Today's Medicine: Winter Solstice

Winter Solstice is the shortest day of the year. Or the longest night. Either way, for me it's a place of extremes, where the night comes early each day. It's a time of rebirth of the light, for the days have been losing light steadily since MidSummer, though it will take time to feel like we're gaining any extra daylight. We haven't had any snow to speak of yet but I wouldn't be surprised if Mother Nature decided to gift us with some by the end of the year.

Last Winter I had a full blown Hermit fit. And it lasted forever- I didn't feel like I was truly fit for human consumption until well into April. Thank the gods above and below that this year is different. I've been practicing the balance between social joys and obligations and having the downtime necessary to recharge my inner fire. I haven't been completely successful but I certainly feel like I have a better grasp on things this year. I think part of my success so far this year is due to combining trips, as in tending numerous relationships on day trips. Another is keeping close tabs on where I am committing my time and energy. I have kept to my rule of staying home the first day off during week, tending hearth and home and keeping up with daily chores. And I have not been making any after work plans on the days that I'm working. By setting those limitations on myself I find I have more energy to give to my loved ones when I actually do see them. It's been a work in process and I'm pleased with the results so far.

I also tend to use Winter Solstice to set some structure for the coming season, which can be a challenging one for me. From now until Spring Equinox in March, I'll be caught between honoring the stillness of Winter while feeling the urge to begin what needs doing come Spring. I need to remember that the planning I do now will help me succeed once Spring actually comes. I also need to remember that REST is a really Good Thing(TM) so that I can be fully recharged for the Spring to come.

So from now until the end of the year, I will be doing a lot of journalling, clearing out the clutter in my physical and mental environments, and setting intentions for what I wish to put forward and receive during the coming seasons. That way, when the chaos of the holy-days finally settles a bit I will have prepared a way for the New Year to unfold. Or is that for me to unfold in the New Year? Either way works for me...

Today's Medicine: Call of the Wild

"If future generations are to remember us with gratitude rather than contempt, we must leave them something more than the miracles of technology. We must leave them a glimpse of the world as it was in the beginning, not just after we got through with it."– President Lyndon B. Johnson, on the signing of the Wilderness Act of 1964

I know I'm an armchair pagan, at least half the time. Instead of walking outside into the wonderful world of nature, I'll sit inside with a cup of tea and watch the birds at my feeder. Yet this quote strikes a chord within me, touches the wild green woman who lives deep underneath the technologically savvy person I am today. It helps me see the world with my other eyes, through the eyes of the untamed being who shares my skin. And I am truly grateful for the reminder.

Changes...

Life is change but certain constants provide

an anchor to steady ourselves

in the turbulent waters of change.

Take solace in the rising and setting of the sun

and create the constancy you crave.

I greeted my day with this thought from my daily quote calendar. All the cards I drew today were about prayer, forgiveness, stepping back and considering before making decisions and choosing to live in alignment with Spirit. That last one kicks me in the butt on a regular basis. I'm almost positive that I've got the best in mind for myself at any given moment. And yet there are days when the divine discontent strikes me fast and hard. The aching and longing for something more than the life that I'm living. I often assuage that feeling in a variety of ways, from shoving it deep beneath the scramblings of my daily life to transcending it with ceremony and being with nature. I am finding that another option is open to me: to sit with the paradox of being a spiritual being having a human experience. Rather than solving what I think is a "problem", I am choosing to detach from the drama, the struggle and just experiencing the feeling of conflict itself. And I'm always surprised that I didn't get ripped apart at the seams by just sitting with the feelings that come up instead of instantly trying to deal with them.

How does this relate to changes? A lot. Because in my heart of hearts I know that the only constant in this life is change, that being flexible and resilient is the only way for me live. Period. It doesn't mean that I always embrace change- quite the opposite, in fact. I have not altered my eating and exercise habits to more healthy ones, at least not to any major degree. Intellectually I know that it would be in my best interest to do walk every day, to do yoga and strengthening exercises, to meditate and choose to eat a balanced diet. Yet my inner self rebels against structures and routines, even when I "know" better. Is it a lack of discipline? Perhaps. It's certainly a paradox. And I have to wonder how much I can put off the understanding that the changes that are best for me are indeed in alignment with Spirit, that making these changes a part of my life will bring me an integration that will soothe that longing within.

I suppose I need to remember that for integration to happen, disintegration needs to occur first. I need to take my release of things that no longer serve me to another, deeper level. And to be honest, that scares the beejeesus out of me. So I suppose I ought to pull out that old mantra, the one I used when I was a teen and couldn't deal with the fragility of my emotions, the turbulence of things outside my control that threw my world topsy turvy. It should be familiar for anyone who has read the book Dune:

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.

Only I will remain.

Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear.

And with a hopeful heart, I am on my way again. Can't wait to see what tomorrow brings, even if it's a bucket of changes that I don't want to deal with...

Things I need to remember...

Pain is a given. Joy is a discipline. - Orion Foxwood

And from David Whyte's Crossing the Unknown Sea: Work as a Pilgrimage of Identity. This passage strikes me deeply, for reasons that are obvious to those who know me or are in the middle of their own struggles:

"Brother David?"

I uttered it in such an old, petitionary, Catholic way that I almost thought he was going to say, "Yes, my son?" But he did not; he turned his face toward me, following the spontaneous note of desperate sincerity, and simply waited.

"Tell me about exhaustion," I said.

He looked at me with an acute, searching, compassionate ferocity for the briefest of moments, as if trying to sum up the entirety of the situation and without missing a beat, as if he had been waiting all along, to say a life changing thing to me. He said, the form of both a question and an assertion:

"You know that the antidote to exhaustion is not necessarily rest?"

"The antidote to exhaustion is not necessarily rest," I repeated woodenly, as if I might exhaust myself completely before I reached the end of the sentence. "What is it then?"

"The antidote to exhaustion is wholeheartedness."

He looked at me for a wholehearted moment, as if I should fill in the blanks. But I was a blank to be filled at that moment, and though I knew something pivotal had been said, I had not the wherewithal to say anything in reply. So he carried on:

"You are so tired through and through because a good half of what you do here in this organization has nothing to do with your true powers, or the place you have reached in your life. You are only half here, and half here will kill you after a while. You need something to which you can give your full powers. You know what that is; I don't have to tell you."


This book, by the way, is made of awesome. To sum up?

"And to die, which is the letting go of the ground we stand on and cling to every day..." - Rainier Maria Rilke

Just off San Juan Island, WA

Praying

It doesn't have to be

the blue iris, it could be

weeds in a vacant lot, or a few

small stones; just

pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try

to make them elaborate, this isn't

a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which

another voice may speak.

~ Mary Oliver ~

Blessed Beltane!

Two things taken from Celtic Devotional: Daily Prayers and Blessings by Caitlin Matthews

Song of Beltane

I am the calm,

I am the quickening,

I am the intoxication and the force,

I am the silence,

I am the singer,

I am the stallion galloping to its source.

I am the bright pavilion and the feasting, I

am the wedding couple and the bed,

I am the morning chorus and the heartbeat,

I am the goal to which all paths are led.




May the blessing of the Flower Bride,

and the Groom of Gladness attend me.

Married to the morning, wed to the sun's circuit,

I take my course this day.

Today's Medicine: Joy

I've said before that most television does not interest me. I don't follow American Idol, Dancing With the Stars and I'm almost ashamed to admit I've just now started watching season four of Doctor Who.

That said, I would have loved to catch this bit from Britain's Got Talent, which can be found here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxPZh4AnWyk

Why? I could say simply that her voice is stunning. But there is more to it than that. It's the fact that a frumpy middle aged woman Susan Boyle from a village called Blackburn, Scotland took the breath away from people who completely underestimated her talent. It was so clear that nearly everyone in the room thought she was ridiculous to even dream she could stand up with those who considered themselves her betters.

And she blew them away. She was saucy, unapologetic and absolutely beautiful.

This makes me incredibly giddy. It shows so clearly that beauty is hidden right in plain sight, all around us, every single day. It shows that each of us have an amazing gift, if we'd only take the risk to show it to the world.

Thank you, Susan. For inspiring me to allow my shiny to be out for everyone to see and not give a damn what the neighbors think.