Seems a day for the words of others. Meg Casey’s thoughts on the solstice make me weep and feel a surge of wild hope at the same time.
But mostly, what I crave, more than anything is to be alone. Its the solstice and I feel the yin, dark, quietness and want to stay here. Some journeys are to be taken alone. I will continue my never ending quest to empty my life of clutter, of the unnecessary, and hope that maybe the magic of the winter solstice will make this clearing easier. I want to empty, empty my brain of thoughts, empty my closets of junk, empty my life of what is no longer needed. Maybe the clearing is the way through the darkness.
The ancients believed this is that day that requires the most faith. Before modern astronomy taught us about predictable orbits, only the most unshakable real trust would do. I wonder what it takes to touch that faith.
I always take great hope from the winter solstice, because from now on, there will be more light. The darkest days are over.
I love the solstice. My children have gone/go to a nature nursery school that hosts a bonfire on the night of the winter solstice, and it is magical. Kids running around hooting like owls, everyone smiling, standing in the freezing cold and brushing away the burning embers. It is lovely and magical. But the best part is that it is so very real. Concrete. The days will be longer. There is real hope for what comes next.