There are cracks where inspiration dwells and hope still wanders, places where wonder seeps back onto parched terrain and breathes a promise of joy to come. There are droplets of courage sprinkled across buds of faith and tender shoots taking root in hidden spaces where they will twine into possibilities, seeking and extending tentative petals to the sky, keeping the pact they made before being, to bloom when they can.
At this point in the year I feel held suspended in a space between summer's fire and summer's fatigue. The air is thick and stifling, the flowers are wilting, the ground is parched, and I feel a sensation in the air of the approaching time to "turn the page."
You can do this work. You can live this life. You are made for these times. You are capable. You are bold. You are brave. You are needed. You are strong. You can rest when you need to.
For people experiencing unfamiliar levels of isolation in their homes this month, here are some potential resources to check out for "home retreating":
“Do not forget that it is summer. Have you slowed down, taken days or weeks of vacation, let the air have access to your body, explored nature, or let your toes out of your shoes?
And sometimes there’s nothing quite like the familiarity of a ritual you’ve attended every year, for half a dozen years, knowing that you’ll be attending the very same ritual half a dozen more.
I know that many will agree with me when I say that 2018 has been rough. As this year draws to its conclusion, I’ve been looking through old journals and have taken note of previous entries. 2016 was confusing and filled with alarm. 2017 was a fighting and frightening year. And 2018… Well. We’re just tired now.
“As candles burn and bells jingle, Remember the dark and the quiet. They are the reason for the season, And should be held as dear.”
—Kay Holt
As I have noted in other recent posts, the bustle of the winter holiday season often seems completely at odds with the natural inner pull towards quiet and stillness in the winter. December offers us a quiet invitation for stillness and contemplation.
How do you balance the twin pulls of the season? The go and do in the sparkling lights with the withdraw and hibernate in the dim cave?
One way I have been coping, perhaps counterintuitively, is by making sure I do things that I "don't have time" to do. Sometimes that sensation of not having time is the most reliable indicator there is that you need exactly what it is you are saying you don't have time for! Those are often the very things that replenish my spirit and leave me smiling.
I've continued to go semi-regularly to a yin yoga class in a nearby town. Even though I practice yoga by myself every morning and have for eighteen years, it is really nice self-care treat to go to this class.
I have also been going to a weekend art circle facilitated by a good friend. At the second circle we drank homemade hot chocolate and colored pictures in a blanket fort. I even just laid flat on the floor on a pile of pillows in the blanket fort for a while doing nothing. It was so nice!
Breathe deep. Stay open. Expand. Reach. Feel. Breathe more. Return to your center.
Erin Lale
Thanks Anthony, I got the impression she just wants to be remembered. She died 9 years ago so I don't think she's still on her journey unless she want...
Katie
I’m thinking... thunder comes with rain, so something warm. Thunder comes with lightning, so something with a bite. I’d say, really spicy ginger molas...
Anthony Gresham
I read in one of the Seth books by Jane Roberts that we lay out our journey through the afterlife in the dreams we have while alive. I read the same ...
morning and have for eighteen years, it is really nice self-care treat to go to this class. 
