Solstice Approaches

I went to buy a brick (a donation) for my library and realized I wanted to have it inscribed in honor of my mother.  When I was little, she read to me. Not even knowing I was an auditory learner, she kindled my love of stories.  Today, as the volunteer handed me the form to complete with mom’s name, I started crying, right there in front of the kind eyes of this woman.

My emotions are presently living just beneath my skin,

waiting for the smallest provocation to erupt. All of them have surfaced this past month.

Grief. Tears. Anger. Compassion. Tenderness.

Anxiety. Laughter. Gratitude. Fear. More tears. More fear.

I feel lost. Scattered. A boat without an anchor.

I look outward toward an expert and keep making quick decisions that turn out to be unnecessary in the long run. I don’t trust my mind to make good choices.

I know I need to return to the wisdom of my heart, and I cannot seem to contact her.

I have read what physically happens when people face their death. Whether faced with a firing squad or the gallows, the body, is literally, ‘scared to death’, and lets everything go.

This has been happening for me this month. It is not pretty.

My stomach is completely contracted, and no amount of deep breathing will release the tight knot.

I have never been particularly emotional around the December/Christmas/New Year season.

But as I approach the Winter Solstice, and the darkest night, the intensity of my inner world has become acute.

This has been and challenging year. Beginning in February with the lung disease diagnosis.

Which lead to facing physical death.

Then committing to doing all that I could to prolong life while trying to wrap my mind around

the mystery of how we never know how much time we have left.

Just in case time was short, I spent the year clearing my cellar of all the ‘stuff’ I have saved, including my old artwork. Much of it was done as I struggled with depression.

The space is now clear.

Blessedly, I have had a guide. A woman I have been working with for the past three years. She is sensitive to energy, especially in the body. She has continued to encourage me as I faced a multitude of hurdles.

This time, her reflection is ‘that I may be experiencing a small death/transition.  The emotional result of all the letting go I did this year and in cleaning out the cellar.’

She continued with, ‘all the inner and outer work that you have done has been in service of a new chapter of life. A fresh beginning.’

I have been blessed with so many small miracles this past year and perhaps this ‘death’ is just another one.  

When I come out on the other side, it will definitely be worth another story.

Until then, may blessings surround you during this season.