I want to start out this post with the phrase “the mid-winter of my discontent.” But I do not want to let the beautiful darkness and stillness of the Winter Solstice devolve, filling the cave of my mind with fears, worries, anxiety and nightmare scenarios, driving out all possibility.
The winter solstice marks the shortest day and the longest night of the year. The sun appears at its lowest point in the sky, and it literally stills, rising and setting at its southernmost position on the horizon the few days before and after Mid-winter.
It is in the stillness of this time of year that I find solace. When I am lucky enough to be surrounded by snow, it seems as if the earth is silent – slumbering and dreaming. It is a time I love to be in bed early and gaze out the window at the velvet darkness, the bright stars and moon punctuating the sky.
I usually look forward to this time of year, to the stillness, the silence, the time to incubate and dream. But, as I said at the beginning of this post, I keep fending off the specters of political futures. It seems I am either lost in Shakespeare or Dickens.
But at this moment, here on the precipice of the solstice and on the edge of stillness, held and embraced in the gentle darkness, I open to the long night. I open petal by petal, a night-blooming flower, and trust in the deepest beauty that I know imbues this world. I trust in the love that lives deep in the molten core of our Mother. I simply must.
Deepest Blessings of the Season to you. — Anne
Note on Dates: Astrologically, Mid-Winter may be calculated as the date the Sun is at 0 degree Capricorn. Winter Solstice (Latin: “sun ceases”) is known as Midwinter or Yule (from the Germanic and possibly Norse).
This autumn, we are inundated with so many things from the past that need to be let go: old ways of seeing, thinking, reacting, and knowing.
When I put my hands in my pockets, I sometimes find bits of crumbled leaf that I didn’t remember was there.
It’s time time clean out the pockets and lay in for winter.
Los árboles nos están apunto de mostrar cuán hermoso puede ser dejar ir el pasado.
The trees are about to show us how lovely it is to let go of the past.
Thursday September 22 is the Autumn Equinox. It is the point of balance, when all parts of the planet receive the same amount of light from the Sun. It is a moment when inward and outward balance is possible.
However, I feel the exact opposite of balanced. The fall brings new classes, new students, the rush of work. While the Autumn Equinox is at the apex of the fall season when growth is finished and readying for winter begins, my work is just beginning. I already feel behind.
And, just like in the picture above, this fall I am wrapped in leaves of my past. They seem embedded in my very pores, and I am not sure how to let them go. Will I feel naked without them?
But, if I am ever going to dig my toes in the rich compost of my life, the leaves must fall. The equinox provides us with a day of balance, a moment of clarity. Let’s take stock and see what we need to release.
Bright Blessings of the season to you.
Historical and Astrological Tidbits on Mid-Autumn: Mid-Autumn is the Fall Equinox. Equinox means “balance”, and this is the point when the dark and light of the day are most at balance. On a global scale, the equinoxes are at the points of the year when the entire world is in balance, with both Southern and Northern hemispheres receiving about the same amount of light. The equinox has another important feature as well: it is the only point during the year that the Sun rises in exact east and sets in exact west. For while the Sun “stands still” at the solstices, the Sun moves very rapidly across the horizon at the equinoxes, leaving only one day to calibrate to the east and west. The Fall Equinox festival is also called Mabon (derived from Welsh mab meaning “son” or “boy”);Harvest Home (in British Isle traditions the time when the harvest is complete); and the Witches’ Thanksgiving. Astrologically, Mid-Autumn may be calculated as the date the Sun is at 0° Libra, which usually occurs between September 21-22.
Award winning writer Anne Key is the author of two memoirs. The first, Desert Priestess: a memoir, relates the three years she spent as Priestess of the Temple of Goddess Spirituality Dedicated to Sekhmet, located in Nevada. Her second, Burlesque, Yoga, Sex and Love: A Memoir of Life under the Albuquerque Sun, recounts her time in Albuquerque performing under the stage name Annie O’Roar. She is co-founder of Goddess Ink.
Winding up the year, both classes and work, and packing to go to Austin for the holidays. This year, I am grateful for my new book release, all of my friends that have supported by creative efforts, and the time/space/finances to pursue my dreams.
Ready for 2016!
So excited for this new book. Enjoy the preview!
Days are warm, and nights are cool in the early fall. We are out every night watching the datura open. Here is a video from last year:
More videos and photos to come!
A good friend of mine died recently and left some of her magical items, including a pot dedicated to the Orisha Olokun, who lives in the depths of the ocean. I took the pot home, safely wrapped in a plastic bag, ready to mail it to a friend who is a Yoruba priestess. She told me: “be careful and don’t spill the contents of the pot.” The pot made it home with me, unscathed. Then when I put it in the back of the car to take the the pack-n-mail, she (I seem to want to call this pot a “she”) fell over and the liquid contents spilled into the plastic bag. I called my friend and said, “what do I do?” She told me to take it to the river, to Oshun, and pour the contents out into Her arms so she would then take Olokun to Yemaya, the ocean.
I stopped by the co-op for white roses and headed out to the Rio Grande Nature Center State Park here in Albuquerque and waded out into the Rio Grande. I sang a song to Oshun, asking her to take the contents of this pot into Her arms, and carry her safely to Yemaya. I then put the rose petals adrift in the river.
Priestessing leads one on many odd little trails, and I am grateful She lead me here
Finished with my 2nd memoir….the pen (or in this case, fingers) seem to itch for more. Hence, the blog.