Gifts of the Dark

CandlesDear ones,

Today is the Winter Solstice, Midwinter’s Day, the longest night of the year. At 3:03 pm here in Oregon the sun will reach its lowest point.

If you live in the northern hemisphere, I’m sure you’ve noticed that it’s really dark these days. Dark and cold. Dark and cold and sometimes icy. And cloudy. And windy and snowy. Did I say cold? And dark.

Isn’t winter lovely? I mean that sincerely. Our days are short, our nights are long, and we are immersed in darkness.

Darkness is necessary for life and light. Seeds germinate in the dark. Babies gestate in the dark. Restorative sleep happens in the dark. The earth rests in the dark — caterpillars are resting, waiting to become butterflies. Leaf buds are resting, waiting to unfurl. Animals are resting, waiting for the sun’s return and the resumption of their forest revels.

Some ways to mark the Solstice and the turning of the year:

  • Give yourself the gift of time. Sit in the dark. Light a candle and simply be present to darkness.
  • Create a poem or piece of art honoring darkness and your human connection to this gift.
  • Choose a word or theme for 2015. The dark is the perfect place to do this. Some resources: Abbey of the Arts “Give me a word” is a series of twelve short meditations to help you dig deep and surface your word for 2015. Coach Anna Kunnecke’s blog on this topic looks at words from a different perspective.

The sun begins its slow rise now. Soon the days will be noticeably longer and the dark will dissipate. Let’s celebrate darkness, friends!

I’d love to hear about your word for 2015, and how you celebrate darkness, in the comments. More about words next week in this space.

Mountain Poetry

Siskiyou Mountains

The Klamath Mountains straddle the Oregon-California border, and are one of the wildest, most rugged ranges in the lower 48.

Fall in southern Oregon is magical. This year especially so. I’m grateful to be having abundant hiking time in the mountains that surround the Rogue Valley. Here’s a poem that describes the over-flowingness of mountain bounty, and its effects on my “bubble of a heart.”

Piute Creek

By Gary Snyder

 

One granite ridge

A tree, would be enough

Or even a rock, a small creek,

A bark shred in a pool.

Hill beyond hill, folded and twisted

Tough trees crammed

In thin stone fractures

A huge moon on it all, is too much.

The mind wanders. A million

Summers, night air still and the rocks

Warm.   Sky over endless mountains.

All the junk that goes with being human

Drops away, hard rock wavers

Even the heavy present seems to fail

This bubble of a heart.

Words and books

Like a small creek off a high ledge

Gone in the dry air.

 

A clear, attentive mind

Has no meaning but that

Which sees is truly seen.

No one loves rock, yet we are here.

Night chills. A flick

In the moonlight

Slips into Juniper shadow:

Back there unseen

Cold proud eyes

Of Cougar or Coyote

Watch me rise and go.

 

Link to the poem here.
My photo, taken October 18, 2013 in the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest along the California-Oregon border.