At the moment it feels like I am tracking darkness much like a sniffer dog on the trail of a murderer bearing the blood of a thousand victims. I am on it. I have direct line to the seeds of this drama of cruelty, neglect, denial and madness felt raging in the ether as we slip into the Winter Solstice tunnel. I have wind of the scents of the myriad trails left by the Shadow Monster in the World at Large. The human heart can feel it. We dance with the wider myth and take our place in it.

There's a trail set for this Winter Solstice and I wonder if you are following it too?


Will it lead us like the fairytale crumbs of bread to the Great Witch's oven and will we find ourselves like Hansel and Gretel caught in a spell of the initiations of illumination and escapology? Will it be that we overcome darkness and find light? Or will it be that this year we will sit with the Shadow Monster in the depths of the first Winter night and listen, finally listen to what he or she has to tell us about what is so lost in the world right now?

Ah, it's the usual dramatic shamanic sensing of the turning of the wheel at the times of axis polarisation! I always forget how acutely these sensibilities can rob the senses of perspective and lightness until I find myself and many of those I work and play with nosediving again. But that's the wonder of being a feeling and sensitive person - it makes one be creative to listen to what will open the skies again. It makes the human being create great acts of strengthening and balancing to bring the medicine through to remedy the pain. It makes the shaman be the shaman, the artist the artist, the writer the writer. It makes the human with the power to channel the bigger picture bring creativity into play: We come out of isolation to land healing projects in the world. This is why the wheel of life turns. It is about movement. It is about drama. We are meant to work with it in this way. We are meant to turn with the wheel and bring alive theatrical healing and rituals of completion and projection at these Sabbat times.

The Shaman's way is to listen for balance. The artist's sensibility is to allow the expression of what is needing a say. The lawyer's true role is to bring everything that is needing to communicate together again and to make peace. Our souls and our societies remember this and carry the etchings of these structures of sanity and caring organisation. The World is a stage at the times of the earth festivals for acts of healing and redirection of flow. We just have to put our focus here collectively.

So I am thinking about cruelty now and the ways we forget how to be gentle and care for all when we do not have these systems of caring and focus in place to remind us how to get back to centre. I am thinking about the cut offs and the punishments, the blind-spots and the coldness. I am thinking about disconnection. I find these places in my own soul as much as in the world out there. I feel the stories within myself and wonder how to bring love and trust back to centre again. Lines of The Ballad of Reading Gaol have been going through my head for days.

'Some love too little, some too long, 
Some sell, and others buy; 
Some do the deed with many tears, 
And some without a sigh: 
For each man kills the thing he loves, 
Yet each man does not die.'

I have been thinking about the part of us that kills this connection with what we love day by day. I have been thinking about this conditioned reflex of the heart that cannot bear too much pain or the life that is already lived to overload. I have been watching myself working, parenting, studying, writing, cleaning, shopping and then finally dropping to just be with this stillness again now at the dark time of year. I have been wondering what I have felt killed in myself my whole life by the structures of this society and the blindness of the driven, and then wondering at what knives I can drive into myself at times too. I have been contemplating how I can just be and let go of this habit of neglect. I have been thinking about this habit as a cloak of knives and how can I be honest about how I have worn this habit. I want to know if I can now listen to everything that I have murdered in myself and my own way and if I can listen to everything that is the murderer in my life.

So I have come up with this meditation and theatre idea for the Winter Solstice this year which is posted in the blog above.  Have a look if you feel like you would like to join in. It is (more cheerfully) a piece for the sniffer dog who brings back the seed and re-educates a process of care and kindness.

Right now and here, I just want to state the truth that however each of us is feeling right now is ok. If we are joyful we can feel the joy. If you are sad we can feel the sadness. There is a lot of shadow coming to the surface at this time of year. But for as many shadows there are as many ways and listening stations. The potential for integration and rejuvenation is high. A thousand sniffer dogs can bring a thousand exiles home.

When the sun symbolically dies tomorrow night (or the night after if you work that way) the next morning there is rebirth and a returning of the light.

Let it all be felt and accepted. Let it all in. And then focus on what the rebirth is to be with all of your loving heart.

Wishing you all a transformative Winter Solstice.


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