Winter Solstice—the longest night of the year. Today, in our Wiccan mythology, the sun is reborn. Each year the Great Mother labors through the long night to give birth again to the new year, to hope and light.
This year the darkness has intense. The bright hopes of last year are worn and tattered from obstructions and betrayals and compromise. Our personal health and the health of all the life support systems of the planet hang in balance, and how can we tell whether we’ve inched forwards or been sucked back into deals and appeasements worse than what went before. Last year we hoped for an end to war—this year we see war escalate. Last year we chose a road of change; this year it looks only too much like the same old road we were on before.
But the message of Solstice is this: hope does not come once into the world and fulfill itself. Hope and light must constantly be reborn, over and over again. They wax and wane, and must be renewed.
That renewal, that birthing, requires labor. Labor means work, commitment, perseverance through that time when it seems you just can’t push any more. The cervix dilates slowly, pang by pang. The child begins to emerge, is drawn back, pushed forward another increment.
We are the laboring Mother, we are the spark of light. New possibilities kick and squirm within us. No, it’s not easy to bring them forth, but we are strong, and we are made for this work. Bear down…breathe…push. This morning the sun rises; each day a new world is born.
6 Comments
This is a beautiful post and I love it. Thanks for this and Happy Merry Solstice!!
We are made for this work.
Thank you for the reminder.
The Sun stretches out its light and arms. Embrace. Happy Winter.
Thank you, Starhawk. I hope I can remember what you wrote when I get impatient or when my perseverance falters…
May the new light shine bright upon you!
Thank you for the beautiful solstice post. Here’s my echo in the longest night.
Joining Her in the Dance
Behind the beaten down bars,
the pool halls and juke joints
and glitzy showrooms for trinkets
of another passing generation,
just behind this coarse scale
another world, vibrant and green,
alive with rich trees
and vines that convey her magic
from deep within the inner Earth
to the streams of our imagination,
a new world waiting to be seen
as the old one drops like dust,
the obscuring cloud still present
in these last of the old days
but through the haze
the first sight of her invitation,
her hand extended in a graceful way
touching the part of us ready to awaken
and join her in the music,
the dance of our next birth.
YES! LOVELY POST – BLESSINGS AS THE YEAR TURNS
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[...] We are the laboring Mother, we are the spark of light. New possibilities kick and squirm within us. No, it’s not easy to bring them forth, but we are strong, and we are made for this work. Bear down…breathe…push. This morning the sun rises; each day a new world is born.” From Starhawks online blog… http://starhawksblog.org/?p=261#comments [...]