But ...

 

It is the first Solstice of the year. The email asks us to tune in at midday our local time and ‘quieten outwardly and rise inwardly’ to ‘be part of a great chain of LIGHT around the planet.’ It suggests we ‘can touch and bless the hearts and minds of all people as they walk on Mother Earth and with her creatures.’ 

I do that. Later, in the mid-winter evening with overcast sky, I don’t take my old body out to commune with the elements. Instead, I light candles on the tiny altar in a corner of my bedroom, and do a small ritual there. 

no moon no stars –

but beyond walls and clouds

their shining lights

I think about things to let go of now, and others to bring in. We adapt with age. As my body gradually wears out, it is no longer easy for me to travel, nor even go out at night. Yet I am very content to stay safe and warm at home with my little cat, to read and write and dream. 

long cold night –

but my small cat purrs

in her sleep

There is much trouble in the world today. Was it ‘ever thus’? It seems our troubles are far more desperate than those of the past. And yet, the world remains beautiful as far as I can see.

still dark out –

but the beginnings

of birdsong

Written for dVerse Haibun Monday: First Solstice.

The quotations in the first paragraph come from a friend's newsletter originating from White Eagle Lodge.

Hello Earth #18

Hello Earth

Here I am again, checking in with you, as the night gets more and more hushed.

Earth, I am liking these wintry days and nights so far. But I know they will get much colder before we’re done. It seems strange to me that this weekend is Solstice, officially mid-winter, as proven by the shortest day — yet we have two more months of winter to go, and the weather will get a deal more wintry than it is now. 

Leaning in, I savour the pleasure of having driven to the coast today to see my chiropractor, despite an off-putting burst of rain as I set out. My first visit since lockdown. I haven’t had pain, but was beginning to get a hunch back and a little-old-lady shuffle. I came out straight and sure-footed again. Just as well! Tomorrow the Goddess circle resumes meeting. We’ll be dancing the Solstice in — keeping the circle more widely spaced than we used to, with dances that don’t require holding hands. 

Listing gratitudes: that I can get adjustments from a good chiropractor; that I have already responded so well to her treatments that in this time without them I didn’t go back into pain; that I’ll see some beloved women tomorrow; that I can still joyfully dance.

Offering to you my gratitude and joy, Earth, I look forward to dancing on, with and for you tomorrow.

Written 6 months ago. Sharing now, in December 2020, with Poets and Storytellers United at Writers' Pantry #50. At this present time we approach Summer Solstice in the Southern Hemisphere, but are in the middle of a sudden cold, rainy spell quite suited to this post.

Despite the cheery words I wrote that day, most of us went back into isolation after all, for the second wave of the Coronavirus, and are only just starting to venture out more often again, in time for Christmas.