I would like to start by saying that if you didn't get a chance to read Hillary's post yesterday, please do. It is beautifully written, poignant, and abundantly relevant. In this time of festivity, tradition, and overwhelm, it is important for us to remember the pause, the quiet, the space in between. It is important to remember that we can have what we need.
Here we are in the very center of the season of rebirth and light. Hidden amongst all this Christmas flurry is a time of regeneration and starting anew. It's all happening right now.
This past weekend, we witnessed the Winter Solstice; and while this solstice is often seen as the first day of winter, it's also the moment when our days begin to get longer once again. We plunge into the depths of darkness and celebrate the longest night, and in doing so, we simultaneously celebrate the shift and the sun glows ever-brighter on the horizon. Oh, we have more dark days ahead, certainly; winter is still here with rain and snow and rosy cheeks.
For me, however, I feel it in my bones: Now is when it starts. Now is when everything begins to move again, preparing for the blossoming of Spring. This is the delicious in-between, the time when new ideas will begin to take on their physical shape and new projects begin to emerge in earnest.
New selves are birthed. All that we want to be, we begin now. All that we no longer represent, we leave with the Solstice. Let it go with the darkness. With the light we begin again. There is tremendous fortune in the reliability of cycles.
I've been thinking a lot about what this chapter of rebirth means for me. What will I do? What am I birthing right now, really? I'm always birthing myself -- I'll tell you that. It's always going on and on, this eternal uncovering of me. And so I will step forward with that. There is so much to uncover as 2015 approaches, and here, in this sweet moment between now and then, we have infinite opportunity for creation.
This is what the solstice means to me, really. It is a celebration of light. The light is coming back. Thank goodness I've been resting so much, because from here on out the days will be longer and there will be more hours to fill with work, with play, with wild adventures mapped on the winds. I will need my energy. Slowly but surely, the next year will unfold its petals, each vein will be revealed, and we will move through it all again; only this time will be different because we are (once again) older, more certain, more sure of ourselves.
This week is awash with ritual and tradition. Solstice and Christmas blend together in so many ways and it's a season of food and glittering lights, commotion and secret solitude. There are cookies, the exchanging of gifts, the extra phone calls and postage stamps to reach all the people we love. Above all, this is a time of opportunity. You can rest, you can celebrate, you can hide, you can gather. Whatever you choose, hold your intentions clearly in your heart. Soon the light will hit them just right, and they will reach up to catch it, pushing upward, seeking to bloom.