Wise Women, the darkness of the season in the northern hemisphere, invites us to journey inward and reflect, while the holidays invite us out to socialize and gather. At times during this paradox, our own self care and magical practices can fall away as we are immersed in the hustle and bustle. Inspired by the goody filled advent calendars of my childhood, I have created a calendar to count down to 2020. Each day an invitation for reflection, connection and/or spiritual practice has been offered. I hope you will join me in taking an intentional action each day to connect to yourself and to Source. You can access and download the FREE calendar HERE.
Today's calendar task was to journal using the prompt "During the shortening days I..." Below is what came from this prompt for me when I set a timer for ten minutes and just wrote. I am sharing this with you because I am often awestruck at the places I go when I just allow time and maybe a little prompt to guide me.
During the shortening days I find comfort within bottomless cups of steaming tea and cable knit wool sweaters. My feet stuffed into knee high socks and felt lined boots keeping me dry and warm. Between the bouts of rain at night the sky clears and the crystalline stars sing like hardening ice, the moon chiming in, a song of remembering, a song of cycles. Birth, death, rebirth and all the growth in between. A song of belonging. This song reminds us that we are all made of Stardust, that the song and light live inside each of us. In the darkness I somehow find this easier to remember. In the cool air, I feel more alive, more in touch with my inner realms. The connection feels effortless. Perhaps as the winter looms and the plants are dying and the earth prepares for rest, that liminal space between worlds is more open and accessible, more vibrant. During the shortening days I find myself in a state of both reflection and growth. I am joyful, yet quietly so. The scents of pine and frost, damp earth and wood smoke invite me into myself. The labyrinth of my being beckoning me inward, to the altar of my soul’s purpose. Into that deepest corner of my being that is home.
Emily Morrison MA, MFT