A quick check-in tonight, to say hello and goodbye. Tomorrow, I leave the country for a month of sojourns. My travels take me to South Africa, Botswana, the Seychelles Islands, Sri Lanka, and Hong Kong.
As promised, I will be ushering in the next chapter of this year’s Generosity Chronicles: a series of letters written daily to last year’s Star Spotlight recipients (with a few extra brilliant folks thrown in for kicks!). Due to questionable connectivity, I’m not making any promises about daily updates, but I look forward to sharing whenever I can–and definitely, upon my return to the states.
One more important mention: HAPPY SOLSTICE! I am truly feeling the pull of these dark days; the invitation to turn inward, to slow, to contemplate and muck around in the gunk of my psyche. I’m befuddled, bemused, enraptured by the fact that tomorrow, on the shortest day of year, I’m headed into midsummer half a world away. I’ll be so curious to feel how this sharp contrast affects my soulful subconscious.
For all of you in the Northern Hemisphere, however, I leave you with this tonight, from the beautiful Seattle poet, writer, teacher, activist, and feminist Jody Aliesan, who died of ovarian cancer in 2012, at the age of 69. She famously lived a life devoted to “telling the truth, and speaking for those who cannot speak for themselves.”
Winter SolsticeThinking only makes the heart sore. – I Chingwhen you startle awake in the dark morningheart pounding breathing fastsitting bolt upright staring intodark whirlpool black holefeeling its suctionget out of bedknock at the door of your nearest friendask to lie down beside ask to be heldlisten while whispered wordsturn the hole into deep night skystars close togetherwinter moon rising over white fieldsnearby a wren rustling dry leavesdistant owl echoingtwo people walking up the road laughinglet your soul laughlet your heart sigh outthat long held breath so hollow in your stomachso swollen in your throatalready light is returning pairs of wingslift softly off your eyelids one by oneeach feathered edge clearer between youand the pearl veil of dayyou have nothing to do but liveby Jody AliesanGrief Sweat, Broken Moon Press 1990