With the Syria, Afghanistan, Mattis, and government shut down news this morning, it feels like shit is going even more sideways than usual. Which has pretty much been a daily occurrence for the past few weeks. Well, no, months. Well, actually, years. Sigh.
It’s going to be really tempting to spend the day pogo-ing back and forth between refreshing Twitter, visiting the websites of the newspaper, news magazine, or news site of your choice (I recommend the Washington Post, The Atlantic, and Vox), and turning on MSNBC.
It’s the solstice. The longest night.
Now, we sophisticated modern folks understand the science behind the change of seasons. We know that the light isn’t just going to keep diminishing forever, and we know why. We know that the wheel will turn.
But this is still a night of deep, dark magic. A night to light the bonfires, or, in our urban and suburban homes, the candles and fireplaces, even if they’re electric or gas. A night to bring in the evergreens, even if you’re allergic so they’re faux. A night to brew tea, cook something that simmers long on the stove, and tell stories of our mothers’ mothers’ mothers and our daughters’ daughters’ daughters (because who says you can’t tell stories of the future?). A night to stay up late and sing to the moon, to rise before first light and toast the return of the sun with a shot of ice-cold vodka. A night for music and poetry and sex, with yourself or another. A night to dream and plan and set your intentions for the year to come.
Happy solstice, my sisters. May you have good health – mental, physical, spiritual, financial – in the coming year. May your plans be wise and well-made, and may they come to fruition in due time. May you walk with integrity in the world, set your hands and mind to work that is rewarding to you in all ways, and strengthen the bonds of love and friendship with your community and family, whether they be of origin or of choice.
This is my will, and as I will it, so mote it be.
Image found here.
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