Remembrance of what we never knew.

However you celebrate: celebrate.

Ancient faith was not found in a book, it was in alignment with the natural world.

The earth spoke and the Goddesses were woven into the stories as people listened. There was a trust, a bond. We were natural scavengers, foragers, children of wonder.

Within us there is a remembrance from our ancestors in our bones of what we have never known in this body but our souls carry the wisdom of.

Connect to that wisdom. Be open to learning and receiving. Go back...back...back, then feel into a new beginning when winter wraps herself around you. Go back to a time before our ceremonies and celebrations were absorbed and undone by institutions afraid of our magic.

Liminal space cannot be stolen or abandoned. It is the trust in transition, in not knowing but wanting.

Our metaphorical harvest, our time of doing and moving and creating now allows us time for rest and retreat into the 'dying' period or the 'bleeding' phase of our cycles. The fertile void. The pause of the year when the discomfort of retreat can set in.

Let's make a prayer for the darkness.

My prayer is to be here. My wish is to not get lost in the cold and long for the spring. My prayer is for rest to feel like home. My prayer is for the pause in the dark.

Bless the Earth with birdseed or bread. Sit with your hot cider at your garden’s edge then offer her your last drop. Light a fire. Dance as your coffee brews. Be curious about what rest you need. Change your rhythms to be in harmony with the cold and dark.

And feast on simple beautiful foods straight from the harvest. Visit a local farm’s market, create from what you find. Carve a squash and devour its creamy flesh. Let honey sweeten your cakes and brew your herbs strong.

Remember. It is inside of you. The magic of alignment. The truth in the dirt. Your roots, your roots, your roots.

xo H