For the night's gone on too long

I've been searching through the darkness
Return to me beloved,
For the night's gone on too long,
Return to me, my love,
I won't rest until I've found you,
Return to me beloved,
And you bring me back the dawn,
Return to me, my love.
(from Circle Round, words written by Susan Falkenrath Wolf)

I love the stories we tell about the earth and her cycles. The seasons turn and each has its own characteristics and personality traits. Each has its own color, element, and energy. Winter has never been my favorite of the four. The lack of light this time of year is never easy. It is a strain on my body, my emotions, my whole self, and especially my soul. And yet, I love the Winter Solstice.

The story of the earth's hibernation, bare and cold on the outside, but alive and full of fire on the inside, really speaks to me this year. The earth's hibernation mirrors my soul's spiritual hibernation. Perhaps the real truth is that I have never permitted myself to enter the pattern of the earth's darkness. I know how to dive deep into my self, but there are so many layers and old agreements to shed, that my lack of courage inhibits me from fully connecting with the pattern of the sleeping earth. I don't really want to embrace the darkness in myself let alone the darkness of the earth!

The darkness this year seems to be more alive for me. While the earth sleeps, I am awake, wide awake at early hours in the morning, pondering, dreaming, hoping that the pain of broken relationships will heal, full of the longing to connect with family and friends, praying for more patience with my children, struggling to hear and notice and believe my inner voice. This is essentially my darkness. There is so much more, I know. So much more I struggle to name, but I feel it all just right under the surface. For the first time in my life I have felt what it really feels like to live in the season of darkness. And there are many times when I have felt that the night has gone on for far too long.

And yet, the great story of our earth is that while the Sun is born again, the earth comes into more light. So, tomorrow, when I awake, I know that the hope of the light will carry me out of the darkness like it gives new life to the trees, the grass, the ponds, the hills, the flowers. It is a slow process, but I know how to recognize her signs. My story is bound to her story. I see that now as I can see the slow process of rebirth written on my soul.

Tonight, as I walk into our favorite woods, the place that holds so much meaning and memories for our family, as we carry our lanterns made from jam and olive jars and tied leather string, and as I carry our Solstice candle that will burn through the night and into the light of a new day and a new season, as we find our way through the darkness to our fairy tree, and as we sing 'Return to me, my love' to the Sun, I will wish for the practice of release. Release the darkness, release the old agreements, release my resistance to fully embrace who I truly am. I will send my wishes to the light for courage, wisdom, cheer, and sound sleep, for the earth must know that I need it.

For now, I wait. New light and new life is coming.

Tomorrow, I know the coming of the light will shine on me.

Happy Solstice, happy Sun, happy, happy light!