Anyone who knows me knows can drop into a story between one heartbeat and the next. I’ve always cherished the notion that the animals speak at MidWinter so all can hear. In all the stories I’ve read and written, they speak Peace.
In my story telling mind, everyone speaks Peace except for us. I do what I can, I do what I must, but the humans need a louder chorus.
It’s why I listen to the little creatures in my heart, who want their stories told. I know. There are places I could get locked up and you notice I’m carefully not saying the voices in my head… but if that’s so, they’re usually merry, so why complain?
But seriously, we need Peace. We just found out we’re in a drought. what measures will we take to make the Water safe? And not just safe for us. We kill ourselves, that’s one thing. But all of Nature doesn’t deserve to die because we’re asses.
So tomorrow night, listen for the whispers of the rest of the world. Listen to what the wild has to say. And if you’re not a fan of the Solstice story, it’s also told in the Christian World about Christmas eve…
All they are saying is give Peace a chance. Why won’t we consider this?
Today is the Dark of the Moon. Our Beautiful Moon has her face turned away from us and she’s smiling at the sun.
Tomorrow when she turns back to us, it will be the beginning of the Long Night Moon.
“Come down, into the Darkness, let the one who wants to be be born.” (i tried to find alink to that song, and can’t)
There’s lots of beauty in the darkness. Lots to explore. Many candles to light. Many stories to tell.
We make such a big deal about the horrors of the dark… and wind up missing what it offers. SAD is real. But for the rest of us? we miss something when we don’t explore the dark — its meaning, its hope…
So today, when the Moon has turned her beautiful face away, I celebrate the starry dark. Celebrate with me, will you? there is Peace there.
Peace of the Long Night Moon to you, my friends.
What are the stories you tell at home? Kia, listening to her mom explain Diwalli to us, was excited to tell me that her family told that story at home. She was so proud to have “their” story told.
It made me remember reading together as a family. We read lots of things, all of us together. I don’t recall my sister’s opting out because she was too old or had heard one of the stories too many times. Even when we all read, we loved to be read to. And it was straight up reading… no one ever imposed a voice on Pooh, so Pooh’s voice was still the one you imagined.
But this particular story was a story of liberation, faith, hope and inter-species cooperation. It was a tale of identity and love. Her pride made me think, oh, we need more stories…
Thanks, Kia! Here’s to more stories of Peace and Identity.