One With The Infinite Sun


For the first time in decades, I rose early (though the cat did, too) and sang the Sun up alone. My singing companion now lives a rich full life in the Queen City and I imagine she slept in this morning.

And you know what? It was okay, more than okay. Daily practice is something I’m struggling with these days and the rising in the dark, the searching for the Big Gold Rattle, the brewing of the Sacred Black Beverage felt both solemn and joyous.

Just like all my interactions with the Divines.

The exact time of the Solstice occurs later today–Science! as I told the gathered folks at our Solstice ritual on Friday night–so I’m planning a fairly quiet day today. The experiment in deep and intentional rest this year has been an effective way of getting back in touch with my own natural rhythms and with my wise body. (I don’t like the idea of separating my “self” from my “body,” by the way–one with the infinite Sun as well as one with the finite Byron.)

This year has seen me in a clearer relationship to the land here, to the sisterhood that sustains me in all things and to the vision of great change with which we are currently engaged.

As the light grew this morning, I mustered my songage and faced the little Italian garden which sets roughly east. For some reason, “Lord of the Dance” came into my head. I like the old tune but the words don’t really match my thealogy, as you might imagine, so it easily changed itself to “Maid of the Dance.” Listen–

Dance, then, wherever you may be!
For I am the Maid of the Dance, said She.
And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be,
I’ll lead you all in the dance, said She.

I danced in the morning when the world was young.
I danced in the Moon and the Stars & the Sun
I came in the Heavens and I danced on Earth.
I dance in mourning and I dance in mirth.

Dance, then, wherever you may be!
For I am the Maid of the Dance, said She.
And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be,
I’ll lead you all in the dance, said She.

I went on to Schiller/Beethoven/Ballard’s “Ode to Joy” and finished with our old favorite “Here Comes the Sun.” Then I chanted “We are one with the Infinite Sun, forever and ever and ever.” I thought about Newgrange and Stonehenge and the knoll on the mountain where I grew up.

I can smell the coffee and am considering a decadent breakfast.

May this Turning of the Great Wheel treat you with kindness and generosity, and may the new agricultural year bring fertility to your fields and prosperity to your table–however you choose to interpret that.

Gud Jul! Blessed Solstice! Was hael!

Sshhh. I’m Resting

I haven’t been here much at all since Samhain prep time. A thousand pardons. Samhain is a busy time here in this lively WNC Pagan community–that keeps me on my toes. Then FaerieCon, then a couple of pieces for a local magazine, then ThanksGaia in Atlanta and now home. No traveling for a couple of months and a chance to dive deeply into the Darkening time.

Hence, resting. Planning a bit for next year and prepping for the Yuletide but mostly getting a good amount of sleep, exercise and nettle tea. Using the time that the agricultural gives us each year to renew ourselves–and thinking of my second Saturn return, which visits me next year.

My heart has been broken by deaths of some dear ones and the serious illnesses of a couple others. Mercy me, this Tower Time is taking no prisoners. Change is pummeling our sisters and brothers and our ownselves–teaching us the lessons of balancing on a wire high in the air while weeping.

I hope you are resting a bit, too, in spite of the call of the holiday season. This one is also the season of advocacy and action as we take to the streets and to social media. We are trying to be good allies to those most grievously affected. And even that has become hard, complicated, confusing.

So, I am resting. And thinking. And feeling deeply and releasing the grief and pain of it all.

I hope you are finding time for all that, too.