Solstice

Winter solstice, also called hibernal solstice… when the path of the Sun in the sky is farthest south…. At the winter solstice the sun travels the shortest path through the sky, and that day therefore has the least daylight and the longest night.” In the Northern Hemisphere, this falls on December 21 or 22.- Encyclopaedia Britannica

If ever there was a year that the light felt far away and the darkness seemed to linger too long… this might be the year.

It’s not my most painful year by far… but the longevity and the constant stream of challenges has been remarkable. Instead of a sudden, gut-punching blow, this has been more of a slow bleed… and I am weakening from the anemia. I am tired, sore and sad.

Pain and sadness have always drawn me inside myself- be it emotional pain and grief or physical pain. While at first onset, I am unsettled… after a period, it draws me inward; and there, in my own shadows, I am afforded the opportunity to allow the pain to transform me- to become bitter-or- to reflect and learn, and become better. The choice is mine.

I reflect on my many moments of pain-my brother’s death, childbirth, accidents and illnesses, holding my first stillborn, saying good-bye to foster children, burying a beloved pet, losing a patient… the moments are many… and every time, I went inward.

I was both a nurse and a mother of two when my grandmother died slowly from cancer, cancer she elected not to treat as it was end stage when it was discovered. I remember that she would keep busy with small projects and pray when the pain was at its worst- a distraction and a novena of sorts for a devoutly religious woman. While I processed the loss, I reflected on the myriad of feelings that came to surface. I tried to apply my hospital training to at-home hospice, all the while guiding my children through their first experience of death. Secretly, I hated her martyrdom. Pain should be avoided not coddled, I believed.

But pain, I’ve come to learn, is inevitable.

While some know this old foe better than others, no one is afforded a life without it. And the timing of our meetings are rarely anticipated- leaving us unguarded and taken aback by its arrival.

Acceptance is never immediate. At first the pain is an intruder and your reaction is rejection, discontent and a drive to fight the force that is ailing you.

But with time, your energy eases and your senses soften as your stance melts and you bend to sit. It’s not martyrdom or loss but surrender. Surrender to the transformation at hand.

And then, the very darkness you at first, jumped to slay, changes form… the shadows shift and you no longer see a foe… but an old friend… and you ease further and commune, settling in as you settle into an old chair.

And it is in that place, where the light meets the dark that you will find your greatest revelations, if you allow them. Your eyes need time to adjust and to filter the light from the dark. And so long as you don’t stray too far from the light… if you allow yourself to sit in the shadows for a time… allow the process, if you allow the surrender… the darkness becomes your teacher.

For a week I wondered, why? Why the week before an already challenging Christmas am I in pain again… but pain is never well-timed… or is it?

Tonight, with the Winter Solstice approaching… I realize it is not an assault but my old teacher returning.

For many cultures, the solstice is a deeply spiritual time, full of sacred ritual and reflection. The long night affords more time for such inward thoughts and revelations.

This year has been hard and every part of my self feels it. My heart, my mind and my body are exhausted. I am a caregiver by both nature and profession and this global pandemic, along with life, has depleted me. Perhaps this pain was my calling to rest.

Busy with work, busy with packing/unpacking, busy with homeschooling, buying and chores… for a time I allowed myself to be consumed by tasks, when what my soul really needed was rest and time- time with the people I love, well spent, not rushed.

And yet, I am kept away from so many of the people I love. Never have I missed family and friends more than I do now. And I vow to remember this…

Life and love are the greatest of blessings- never should they be taken for granted.

To simply awaken every day is a gift- a gift denied to so many this year. Furthermore, to be afforded people that love you and that in turn, accept your love, are what makes life so rich. Relish in that love while you have it. Be present. Listen. Take it all in. Feel. Invest in the people and moments that matter. Loneliness is the void of every day joys we ache for when they are taken from us.

Yet not every person is worth the energy it takes to create such moments and sustain such bonds. Pain helps to sort out worthy relationships-the people that understand, the people who offer support, the people who remember, the people who stand by and hold your hand until you are whole again. Pain builds a shell that only the worthy take the time to chip away. It is a blessing to know who your allies are. Don’t let the fair-weather friend distract you from your loyal companion. Those who walk through the valleys with you… should never be forgotten or taken for granted.

Nor should your abilities. The ability to walk, talk, see, think… to use our bodies to explore, create, learn and produce goodness… that is a tremendous gift. Many people have learned just what it was to take taste and smell for granted. Over and over, I’ve read accounts of people crying when their senses began to return after a covid infection. And yet these experiences are not a new phenomenon- The vet who lost his legs. The elder whose sight has clouded away. The accident that robbed one of their ability to hear… How easy it is to jump out of the bed and run to the phone… until you’ve lost the ability to walk…and talk… To see someone’s face… until you go blind… To hear the laughter and music of the season until your ears no longer process sound. Today I am choosing to marvel in my abilities.

And I am choosing to marvel in my blessings-my family, my home, a full refrigerator and warmth- just a few enormous blessings denied to so many right now.

Joy and connectedness are not lost- with the tremendous technology available to us. Technology that allows us to watch our holiday favorites on the screen, listen to the tunes of the season, have gifts and goods delivered to our doorsteps, and video calls to see our loved ones faces and share in each other’s moments in an alternative way.

While the darkness affords us the time to reflect, the solstice is also a celebration of the re-birth of the sun, the survival of the longest night and the gain of light to come. I am so incredibly grateful for my bounty and yet, oh, how I yearn for better days to come…

As I sit in this ecliptic state, my blessings are illuminated by the light. They are what I am choosing to set my gaze upon. And yet to see them, I had to sit in the dark for a time. As I continue on my journey, I aim to hold steadfast, my focus on such blessings, but I will not deny the darkness. I am entitled to my grief-from wherever it comes, or however big or small it seems to others. I will honor both the struggle and the reward, the blessings and pain; because one cannot exist without the other.

The solstice is “a time to set goals and intentions for the coming year, to examine and let go of our past, and to make changes within ourselves”… It is “a personal awakening.”-Jessica Booth, Bustle.

This is not the way I would have chosen to spend my holiday season- in pain, away from family and friends, removed from so many meaningful traditions. And yet it’s a year I’ve been afforded so many blessings. And it’s an opportunity to reflect and better myself-to awaken. Perhaps in this time of great unrest, this solstice may be the most meaningful yet… straddling both the light and the dark and embracing them both… A restful hibernation, all the while welcoming a rebirth… as pain and struggle always offer a transformation… and the world circles the star… yet again.

solstice | Definition & Facts | Britannica

What Does The Winter Solstice Mean Spiritually? It’s Celebrated In Tons Of Religions And Cultures (bustle.com)

Angels and Porcelain Dolls

Life is a series of ups and downs, hard days and easier ones, and not a one of us are spared pain and tragedy. Some tragedies however, are life altering. When they hit, they take away not only our breath, but our sense of self. It is with those moments that we are given the opportunity to rebuild and redefine or to withdraw and lay victim. Neither way is an easy way out, as the human mind and heart are fragile. But in rebuilding, we create a journey of giving back that is simply magnificent.

Here’s to those who at one time, found themselves broken.

 

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You were whole…

Despite the scars, despite the hard days’ work, despite an imperfectly perfect life…you felt safe. You felt whole. A hardened shell, cushioned by a life going right, at the day’s end, your body sank into the bed and the quiet calm of the night soothed you. Comfortable and relaxed, you pulled the covers under your chin and breathing out, you sank further into the softness that surrounded you. Life was predictably unpredictable… and you, an imperfect porcelain doll, scuffed and tattered, but intact and beautiful in your well-loved way.

All was well. All was still.

And then, from out the darkness, with no sound, no preemptive warning, an unspeakable, crushing blow leapt from out the shadows, striking you… and you felt yourself break into a million pieces.

Disoriented at first…and confused. One plastic eye hanging loose from its socket, staring at the floor in disbelief. There is shit everywhere and you’re standing in the middle of it.

Braving a glance in the mirror, you look just in time to see another piece fall out of place. What you once were, is now a pile of debris scattered on the floor. And you no longer know your name.

A faceless, nameless tragedy….time and space stand still. You are numb.

Simultaneously, pain and reality soak in. Like a laboring woman, reflexively, you rock. The pain in your soul is too much to bear and you feel yourself crumbling further, from the inside out. Surely, it is your heart disintegrating under the pressure.

And then finally, in the whirlwind that is your life, the racing circles of rational thought, feeling and physics unite and your tears are accompanied by heaving sobs. Your chest aches and you starve for air as much as you starve for reprieve. You beg the universe for a different truth. Bargaining, you’d give anything to have been spared this blow. The pillow that once brought you peaceful slumber, now stifles your wails.

Bouncing between horror and emptiness, in one moment your heart races with panic and dread…and in the next, there is an absence of thought and emotion. You awaken to find yourself staring into space… gone from reality… gone from your body. Unable to speak, unable to move, your only task is to fill and then empty your lungs.

Everything that was before, it seems, has been destroyed. Trust, faith, safety and security, like life-long comrades, lie lifeless amongst the list of causalities. Robbed of your former happiness and ease, you are broken. And the life you once knew, is gone.

Two bare legs, thin and pale, dangle off the bed where you sit- speechless and motionless. As the sobs slow and your breathing again regains some sort of rhythm, you gather your energy and your courage. Easing yourself off the edge of the bed, you crouch to the floor. Slowly and intentionally, you begin to pick up the pieces. Gathering them in your bleeding hands, you are sure you will never be whole again.

Alone in your space, depleted simply by standing and holding what your life once was close to your heart… hands trembling, in a weak and cracking voice, you use the slightest wisp of energy to call out for “Help.”

Expecting your voice to merely echo into the darkness, you are surprised when the doorway fills with light.

Silently and floatingly from the other side, angels move in. One by one, carefully selecting piece-by-piece out of your hands, tenderly, they fill each broken space. With their words and their hearts, gluing each piece back. “Tell me I will be whole again” you cry, as silently, they work. As they mend and you surrender, you begin to see your form take shape again. Knowing that you could not rebuild alone, you revel in their aid. Still you resolve, you will never again be the same.

Time passes and still you gasp for words. Exhausted and aching from every joint, you glance once again into the mirror. Relieved to see the pieces of your life put back into place, you can’t ignore your blessings… but neither can you ignore the fracture lines that remain. Whole again, and yet, still so shattered… your voice quivers when you try to speak, so broken you hardly believe where it’s coming from.

Night falls and anxiety erupts, sabotaging the safety you once felt. Your bed is no longer a safety nest and your room, no longer a sanctuary. You breathe and you imagine and you pray, begging to feel the wholeness the rest of the world sees in you, the wholeness you once felt.

Angel voices whisper in your ears and silently, you respond to the figure in your reflection. “You are strong.” “You are brave.” “You are resilient.” And from the light of the angels, a sliver of hope pierces your heart, “goodness can come from tragedy.” Believing those words, you long for the day that you will regain your voice and your strength. You know you are a survivor and your story will one day be told.

Today you will rest, tomorrow you will crawl… and one day, with grit and knowledge and the pain-staking work of healing, you will fly.

For the broken doll, will one day become the angel- called upon in another’s darkest hour, to minister and mend another broken soul. Your light will fill her doorway when she gains the courage to call for help. And when you reach to pick up her broken pieces, she will see on your hands, the fracture lines…and in your eyes and soul, your strength and undying love.

 

Saviors often wear the deepest scars. Scars are always tougher than uninjured tissue. It takes grace and hard work, not to yield to bitterness and anger. Compassion, wisdom and empathy can be the byproducts of trauma, if instead of shutting the world out, you call for help and accept it… if you work to heal, instead of pushing the pain away.

To every doll standing in the mirror, seeing their missing pieces… broken as you may feel today… if you take the time and do the work, you will one day heal and grow wings.

And to all of the angels, who have at one time or another, answered one’s frail call for help, may you forever know that your pain created a strength that carried them. And the glue that is your love, is ever-lasting.

Perhaps, life is just a series of breaks and mends… some days we are the doll… and if we do it right… some days, we get to be the angel.