This is the thirteenth issue of my free newsletter. Your feedback is most welcome!
These days are the shortest and darkest right now. Indeed the world seems dark: war looms with Iraq, and Arabs and Iraqis in this country are being placed in jail, bringing to mind the internment camps for Japanese-Americans during World War II. And the “weapons” of Iraq seem to be a mere pretext for going to war to have access to Iraqi oil. Meanwhile the engines of commerce are fully revved up to hypnotize Americans into a shopping frenzy, buying holiday gifts to “show your loved ones you care.”
Energies naturally turn inward, as the sap of the tree goes deeper within at this season. Here at Earthaven, the first snow came on the new moon a few weeks ago. I was in a flurry myself: admiring the perfect snowflakes on my sleeve with a magnifying glass, anxiously calling the weather, wondering whether to call off the Sacred Water Group meeting in town that evening, finally giving in to it and staying home. I felt how the snow, ice and slippery roads pulled me closer to my tribe, closer to the natural way of things. Sometimes I feel as if technology is being wrested away from me: I can’t seem to get my email, my camera doesn’t work, or the car won’t start (what would that mean, if it were a dream?) And I struggle against it, and think that I must be crazy to live here.
I think about my feelings of guilt at not doing enough to change the dire straits our planet is in, my shame at being an American, allowing the deadly Bush regime to wage war and destroy the environment. I wonder if I can say I live sustainably, when I drive 50 miles every week (one round trip to town) in order to work and buy groceries. Can we unhook ourselves from guilt and self-judgment as we look at the dark places inside ourselves—and see what it is that blocks us from our own light?
On December 22, the Solstice, we celebrate the return of the light. It is a celebration of the sun, the source of all life, as the earth gradually circles closer to it. We rejoice at the symbolic rebirth, every year, of the infant sun. It is a tradition that is alive, because we can feel it and see it ourselves. And it is a celebration of hope and faith that during even the darkest of times, the light of spirit will prevail. Now, we are called upon to give birth to that light within ourselves, when it is so seemingly absent from the world. For each of us is a light, a star. A Course in Miracles reminds us: “The sign of Christmas is a star, a light in darkness. See it not outside yourself, but shining in the Heaven within.”
To me, community is a light in the darkness. Loneliness is the plague of Americans, we of the broken hearts, the closed hearts. What better cure for loneliness than community?
Community is… Rosy-cheeked 4-yar-old Elijah sitting on my lap for story hour with his Santa hat on, while his older sister Sequoia holds a squirming baby, and 2-year-old Dylan says, “I can’t see the pictures!” In the kitchen where we read, a young woman with blonde dreadlocks chops onions and jokes with her cooking partner as dinner prep gets under way.
Community is…Witnessing the raising of the wood frame for Village Terraces (the newest building), with over 20 men and women assisting.
Community is… Telling the difficult truth to one of our members, during a “Heartshare.”
Community is… Late nights at the Council Hall reading email, while Peter and Keith, working on the Permaculture Activist in the next makeshift office, offer jokes, imprecations, or sympathy.
Community is… Tears and wailing and noses blown in sympathy around the circle as each of a dozen people moves into the Truth Mandala to express grief, fear, anger and confusion over the state of the world. Candle lanterns give the only light and the woodstove keeps us warm as rain drums steadily on the yurt’s roof. Afterwards we linger for hugs.
Community is…Women gathering kudzu vines and weaving them into wreaths, decorated with holly and boxwood, for the neighbors. Women sipping hot nettle tea at Red Moon Herbs, while chopping up poke and Echinacea roots and laying them out to dry near the woodstove, as the conversation ranges from boyfriends to bridge building. Young and old women sharing in small groups on the floor late at night, swapping clothes, bringing up old wounds for healing, women dancing, cooking and feasting together at our weekend retreat.
How might you spend the Solstice? It is an opportunity when a special portal opens giving greater access to help from Spirit. Traditionally, this is the time for releasing whatever no longer serves us. As the old year is dying, this can be a time for profound self-examination and letting go, in order to make space for new growth to occur. Fire is the great destroyer, cleanser and purifier; for generations, people have lit bonfires for the Winter Solstice and prayed that the fire burn away their obstacles and imperfections. Fire is also a great gift for its heat and light, an earthly echo of the great sun which illuminates and warms our planet. So, light a fire, and literally (by writing them) or symbolically burn up those attitudes or habits you wish to release.
To help you shine your own light brighter, try the “heart breath”: First stand outdoors and send imaginary roots down into the ground. As you inhale, imagine drawing the Earth’s energy up into your heart, and gently exhaling it out into the world. After a few breaths like this, imagine inhaling the Sky’s energy down into your heart, and exhaling it through your heart into the world.
Make yourself more transparent: Bless your drinking water (liquid light), and as you drink it visualize the crystal clear, vibrant, scintillating water sparkling throughout your body, raising your vibration, revitalizing and energizing you, and letting the light shine through you.
May you and your loved ones be blessed!
