While the holidays hold the fullness of our waxing gibbous moon, inviting us to brighten, expand, & fill up on the lights, energy & celebrations, the calendar year is closing with the Completion Moon, & there is also an impulse to be done, draw in, & hibernate

We want to, & really must, hold both, on this shortest day & longest of nights. The moon comes midday, & stays with us until dawn, a beacon of both the night & the sun. She calls us to plan out the coming year, to draw her down & fill up on possibility, brightness, & an almost hedonistic, volupt sensuality. We want to smell trees, to breathe in homes of vanilla & cloves, baked onions & laughter.


So let's celebrate, & make home, at three levels:

Systemically, we can offer a traditional medicine prayer. 

Intimately, we can indulge the senses & play house.

Internally, we can create nourishing traditions for our body temple.


Globally, we are in a collective Solstice, having spent an eternity in mystery, waiting for some urgent awakening. Currently, 1 in 122 people are refugees. Refugees. Humans being family, being alone, being with the questions of love, self-worth & mystery, just like us, are displaced, without a piece of Earth to tend or find home in. They are, literally, unsheltered, & at the same time, many are living triumphs of the Human Spirit. Half of them are women. Two-thirds have been exiled for at least 5 years, with no clear resolution to look toward. But what media can't see with it's eyes of fear or speak with it's broken voice, are the millions working for good, successfully, all over the planet. 


We are, collectively, making home. 


In a thousand quiet ways, we are willing their liberation thru the steady uncovering of our own brightest paths. Yes? Of course. We are bound together, you & I, in our global sisterhood.

I am grateful to be alive right now, at this cultural edge, in this time of answers. Women make the connections, thinking holistically without needing to think systemically. While it unfolds, we have each other.  Western society makes that a trite thing, though indigenous women in every land have always known this is true across time & space.  Our sacred activists sing:


We are seeds, that we plant in the earth
That come alive, from the moment of birth
What we say, what we think, what we feel
Becomes the grain
That will turn in the mill

Long are we waiting awakening.  Long are we singing our song.
Long are we waiting awakening.  Long are we singing our song.

Hello moon, hello star in the sky
Hello pain, hello tears that I cry
Hello dark, hello night that is long
Hello friend, hello pain that is gone

Long are we waiting awakening.  Long are we singing our song.
Long are we waiting awakening.  Long are we singing our song.


This song was brought to me in circle, from our Indigenous sisters at Black Mesa Water Coalition. It's a song of deliverance, that we can sing for each other, just as a wife might sing a hunting song to help bring her husband home with meat for a hungry family, tending a hopeful fire in deep snow. Whether you are in a season of Resistance,  Re-creation, Re-Imagining, or Re-Form, you can pray for each human's liberation thru song. We can create shelter in Each Other. This Solstice, I invite you to take this song into your practice as a simple devotional to the larger awakening, knowing that many are singing for you, as well.


The recording is slightly different, but will give you the tune & feeling in group. Children, of course, love this song, & men very much understand it. It's for everyone.


Here, in California, Winter is only just arriving, & I'm feeling that biological call to rest, hibernate, & cozy up by the fire with close friends & family. We want to fill our dens, & feed our beloveds. We are craving sugars, heavy creams, & things that will hold us thru a season's slumber. It's somehow ironic that we are celebrating the coming of the Sun. Those of you in the Southern Hemisphere have an equally mixed message to play with: ripe fruits, tide's up, wreaths & mistletoes.


It's a season of choosing.


Just as I crave simple sugars for the endless summer, my eyes begin consuming too many material objects for the days of gifting, & I also begin feeding my heart too many options for the coming year, overplanning. I gorge on holiday movies that remind me of the saccharin safety of Saturday morning cartoons. Honestly, it feels good. We pour organic, sweetened condensed milk on fresh powder for a Tahoe-version of halo-halo (Filipino fruit + ice cream + shaved ice). D puts on red & black moose pajamas, & I have charcoal pinstripe pajamas & for a while we are that family

It's a reward we give ourselves for the hard conversations around roles, requests, support, & the real work of staying all in. So we let ourselves play house. We go caroling with friends we adore. We pour hot mugs & make daily fires for the local littles. Oh yes, & we navigate social obligations. Familial obligations. Reminders of what's been lost (dreams & beloveds). There's countless opportunities to share space with the blessed & unhealed parts of ourselves. Sigh. Conscious acceptance. All of these are ways of making home - especially the boundaries we lay. These, too, are all parts of making home, spiraling in at the neighborhood level.


And then there's our temples.


I am not yet ready, but already looking towards my detox plan. I have plans for deep rest, soups, & cleansing drinks. Salads of warm winter greens with all the fixings. Light grains, slathered with butter...


Some researchers believe our bodies developed to consume extra carbs thru the summer, to store calories for our Winter's rest, & this resonates with our work at CI.  With the nights lit year-round, & all the end-of-year action, "Winter's quiet" never comes.  In fact, as we continue to bring the gesture of Summer to our rest, my hormones become confused & distraught. I find myself feeling a bit floaty & overfull. Overtaxed. All the fun is delivered, fully-loaded, from a society that produces dreams-on-demand, regardless of sky or tides. We are pretty & waxed, with bland & wilted insides, like fruit out-of-season. It's all maybe too rich, not sustainable, not really workable, or delicious for too long. It takes extra capacities we don't always have, & yet, we still enjoy it all, with the padding of sweets, things, comfort foods & the like. So there's indulgence. That's a bit of gentle, interim home-making. 


When you are ready to keep the joy, without the sensory overload, & make home internally, right-click to download...




Can we move gracefully into emotional fulfillment, finally feeling fed, while our initiatives also grow into their full expressions? 


That is my wish for us all.


I believe it requires bright choices, a fierce way, gentle compassion for ourselves & others. The gift of this time is really stillness + community. Getting quiet enough to know what's nourishing in this moment, & how to celebrate yourself, then making a sacred space for others to gather, is a sweet & easy tradition for a really good life.  It makes room for you, for them, & for the future you are creating together. 


Celebrating you, the light, & the hope you bring to my table,