Seeing Solstice
There is a pause now
this quiet Solstice time
before light slowly lengthens.
The temptation?
To count the days.
To hold our breath
until daylight stretches into evening
and early morning forces back the darkness.
What a relief it will be
these light-starved eyes
to see again
no longer fumbling in darkness.
Still,
somewhere deep inside
past resistance and reason
you know this darkness, too, is your home.
A place you were taught to hurry through
lest you be swallowed by the whale of darkness
never to be seen again.
Your soul knows better.
Your soul knows night is the place of dreams.
Far beyond what seeing eyes call horizon
night eyes know no such boundary.
Solstice is a powerful teacher:
the trickster who invites you to go out sledding on a moon-less night.
Daring you to take a risk, to lean in,
to stay with what is uncertain and unseen.
She whispers in your ear as the sled starts to move,
“Your vision limits you here.
Your desperation to see keeps you from seeing.
In this place, you see not with your eyes, but with your being.”
It is a place that asks for your full participation,
accessing all of your senses and trusting different ways of knowing.
A place that reveals hard-earned truth and wisdom that lasts.
Light would never be so generous with its depths.
She has other things to give.
So, on these long nights of winter solstice
may you find your wildest dreams
walking companionably alongside you.
Having waited for you all this time
to turn toward darkness
and find not fear, but peace and courage
and wild desire for a life
you are ready, now, to live.
