Winter Solstice (Yule) 2008

Hi everyone,

I have looked forward to this night for a long while and although I won’t be celebrating it officially here until tomorrow night, I honor this longest night by looking deep into the darkness – awaiting the return of the light. I hope your solstice brings you light as well!

Calling the circle
As we contemplate solstice, we summon the spirits of the East, spirits of Springtime, new beginnings, new starts. Element of air, first breath, cool dawn. The power of life, springing forth. We call the spirits of the East and ask them to join our circle.

We call now to the spirits of the South, spirits of strength, power, warmth, clarity, motivation, energy, movement. Element of fire, bright fires lit at midday. The power of light, illuminating us. The fire that is our passion, burning deeply within is always. We call the spirits of the South and ask them to join our circle.

And we call to the Spirits of the West. Spirits of our deepest feelings, our strongest emotions, our truest love. A sunset over a calm ocean, a still lake reflecting back the sky, the still waters that run deep, deep within. Element of water, emanating the power of love. We call to the spirits of the West and ask them to join our circle.

Now we call the spirits of the North, spirits of this solstice. Spirits of midnight, dark moonless skies in winter, places where truths are told. Element of earth, grounding us. Power of law, karma, ancestral wisdom, we call to the spirits of the North and we ask them to join our circle.

And we call to those spirits above us, the moon in her many faces, angels, stars, heavens, light beings everywhere, those souls not yet incarnate. Children of our children. We call the spirits above and ask them to join us.

And we call to the spirits below us, to the earth that grounds us and keeps us steady, the green kingdom with its deep roots and to the lava beneath the crust that impassions us. We call the spirits below and ask them to join us.

Finally, we call to the spirits of the center, where all the directions meet and merge and where they meet and merge in each one of us. The central flame. The sacred spirit. This circle is closed, a safe and sacred circle where everyone is welcome and free to express themselves.

Solstice thoughts/Talking stick
I have just sat down to have the uncomfortable conversation with myself about my dark places in order to write this, and I must say, it isn’t something I feel like doing. Which makes me think that doing it must be necessary. I think that the two things that jump out at me this year are fear of death and being too controlling – in general, and perhaps most specifically controlling what I will or won’t give of myself. They seem unrelated right now, so I will tackle them separately, although as these things unfold there is almost always a connection so we’ll see.

When I talk about fear of death, I mean fear of my own death really. Fear of my not being able to be there to take care of Owen, most specifically. I can really spiral out of control on this one sometimes, letting my mind go to those places about what would happen, who would be called upon to help, what would Gary do too – how would he cope, what if Gary were gone too – and on and on. Owen has asked me about these things and I’ve answered as best as I can, as honestly as I am able. I am never quite able to bring myself to say that I’ll always be there, that his worries are for nothing. I get close, but I feel like I can’t because if it ever happens then he will feel I lied; which of course would be the least of his problems if it happened, but still. It is the one thing that will still get my on my knees to bargain with the God/dess in that very young and childlike way, to implore ‘please, please let me live to be XX age or let Owen be XX age before anything ever happens to me’. But, like my niece dying despite all the tragedy in her family, and like the countless people that are experiencing those sorts of things right now, that bargain is not always struck. Sometimes people do die too young, leaving children behind in terrible and tragic circumstances. My son, I tell myself, would be luckier than most, with the number of people that love him but it really isn’t much comfort. I can suffocate, choke on this feeling when I let myself go there – which I try not to do very often.

The irony is that I have never feared death before in my life. Never felt quite rooted here, like there was a home elsewhere that I missed and wanted to return to. What I conclude from this is that the love I have for my child must be the most intense and beautiful thing in the world if it could pull me in with such power, and also that my happiness and contentment have reached a point now where I feel comfortable with my journey – and have no desire to leave it.

Putting that aside for the moment, or perhaps forever, as I am not sure there is a resolution for it, I am also not at all pleased with myself lately when it comes to giving truly and from my heart – all the time, in every situation. It is difficult because for a long time I think I had poor boundaries; giving and giving until I was empty and then sometimes resenting it. I have gotten better at that in recent years, but now I wonder if it has slipped too far the other way. I have this amazing friend who gives money to anyone who asks him, no matter what his circumstances or theirs, and going on about 10 years ago I decided to be just like that too. And usually I am… but this week, someone asked me for money for a cup of tea, and I didn’t give it to them – not because I didn’t have it, or because I thought tea might mean drugs, but because I was running kind of late and didn’t want to stop to fumble around for the money. That is such a lame reason not to give and I deeply regret it. I have been consciously blessing that man with love since, and I hope that energetically it helps a bit to make up for it, but the main thing I can do is edit (thank you, again, Robyn, for teaching me the real meaning of editing!) and not let it happen again.

More than the above, there is another situation where I’ve withheld too much of my help, my heart from someone I know in need and in this case it will be necessary for me to let my boundaries slip a little. Her need is greater than mine right now, and so even though it won’t be easy, I need to take on a little bit more. And not be so controlling of what I give and how I give it.

If there is a connection between fear of death and too much control of giving, I haven’t entirely found it. But what I do know is that both require an open heart filled with faith and love, which I will endeavor to have. As much as I don’t like my fear but more than that I don’t like any parts of myself that are not generous. I repeatedly drill into Owen that the most important things in this world are love, generosity and gratitude and that with those things he will be sure to be always happy. With the return of the light, I want to leave behind my fear if possible, but certainly want to shed any stinginess and embrace only light and the best angels of my nature; and reach out and see the best in others too. And I don’t ever want to overlook generosity because I might miss a train. So I will sit with that in the darkness and ask the light, the love, for healing. And that is my intention for this solstice.


Meditation
Imagine yourself lying on the ground beneath a beautiful but leafless old oak tree, in the middle of a field, under a starry, windless sky. The ground feels cold, but yielding, the air a perfect temperature, and the smells are of ice and night. As you breathe in and out feel that you are breathing in time with the stars, that you are a part of the setting that surrounds you. Then allow yourself to imagine that you are getting smaller – smaller and smaller until you are so small that you can stand up and walk into the tree that you were lying underneath. Walking into the tree, looking up, note the vast branch system, how tall and high it is, looking down, note the vast root system, reaching down into the earth farther than you can see. Then, notice that one of the roots is larger than the others, and resembles a spiral staircase. Imagine then stepping onto the 13th step, the step of transformation, then spiraling down and around and inward to the 12th step, then down and around to the 11th and the 10th, spiraling down and around and inward to the 9th, then the 8th, then around and inward to the 7th and the 6th step. Then, pausing on the sixth step, note that as you look up you can no longer see the top, and looking down, that you can no longer see the bottom. You are standing in the middle of the spiral, in a moment of infinite perfection. If there is anything that you are carrying that you don’t want to take with you on your journey, you can leave it on this step. Continuing then to the 5th step and the 4th, spiraling around to the 3rd and the 2nd and then finally the 1st step, then stepping into a clearing with four doorways, each pointing in one of the four directions. Imagine yourself walking down the pathway that heads north.

When you step through the doorway, you see a path in front of you, very clearly leading up a hill in the distance. It is very dark, but the path is lit dimly by the stars and moon, and you are warmed by a large furry cloak. The scenery is somewhat barren, almost desert-like as you wind your way toward the top of the hill. You move toward the top of the hill, sensing that you are coming to a ceremonial place. Your mind feels very clear, empty of thoughts or expectations, but receptive, as you walk. You may begin to hum or sing softly as you climb, repeating the sounds as a kind of mantra, clearing your mind further of all thoughts other than the sounds or words.

You are winding your way to the top of the hill now, around the hill, slowly, until you finally arrive. You make your way into the ceremonial circle, but you are alone there and there is no fire lit. You spend a few moments feeling that you are at the same time completely whole and alone and yet connected to the earth below you and the sky above, dispelling any fear that you might feel. The words of your song become clearer now and you sing with more confidence and strength now. The song grows stronger and stronger, and you can sense that the power of it is increasing. You realize that you have created a power that is strong enough to cast a light into even the darkest night, and as you are thinking that, you focus your intention into the circle and a fire bursts forth. The light radiates from you, through the fire, and outward until you and everything you can see or imagine is shimmering with light, with love. You become aware that the light has reached your heart, and is warming it – until you are overwhelmed by that love. The love radiates out from your heart, through your body, and calls those you love into the circle with you. They arrive, one by one – guides, friends, ancestors – all those that you love. You bask in the connectedness that you feel with those who love and support you. Then, the love spreads outward from your circle, reaching out into the heavens, surrounding this world and every other realm, uniting with every other light soul until the entire world feels completed filled with love. The love is so powerful that you lose all thought, all reason, and can only rest in it. You know and feel how loved you are, as much as you know and feel how beautifully you are able to love. Finally, when it feels as though the world is glowing on its own, the circle grows still. You look at the people in your circle, asking for any guidance or offering any words to anyone there that needs your guidance.

When you feel that your time in the circle is complete, your wise woman leads you out of the circle and to a beautiful stone table that has appeared, filled with all kinds of food and drink, and those in your circle join you at the table for a beautiful celebration. You can converse freely with them here.

When the meal is finished and it is time to go, you step back into the circle one more time, joined by everyone present. You are once again able to return to that place of warmth, light and perfect love. When you are finished, you leave your circle, walking silently back to the path. Your wise woman accompanies you, then gives you a hug goodbye. She presses an object into your hand to take along with you to remind you of this night.

You walk back down the path, heading back to the doorway, contemplating the object in your hand, but also just filled body and soul with song and light. The path leads you back to the doorway where you began. You give one last look, then walk through the door.

Stepping back up onto the first step, spiraling upward and outward to the second step and the third, and upward and outward to the third step and the fourth. Then spiraling around to the fifth and the sixth step, and pausing now on the sixth step, retrieving anything that you left behind before, or just leaving it behind in that perfect moment in infinity. Climbing now to the seventh and upward to the eighth, upward and outward to the ninth, then the tenth, and around to the eleventh and the twelfth and then finally to the thirteenth step, the step of transformation, then back into to the tree. Stepping out of the tree, you find your place beneath it, again enjoying the sweet night air. Then feeling your consciousness return to the space you are in, and, when ready opening your eyes.

Prayers for our circle
I want to call on this extended circle and the New York circle in particular to reach out with your love and light and hold Nina in that place. She’s just been dealing with a lot for a long time and needs a rest, and so at this solstice I would offer a prayer that Nina can take a break from thinking, worrying, praying, manifesting and having faith while we have those things for her for a while.

Much love to all of you – you are a beautiful light in the world, which needs all the light it can get!

Love and many blessings,

Tara