Monday, December 21, 2015

Happy Winter Solstice

The last couple of months have been busy, and while I've missed writing and my interactions with you, I've been too tired and busy to be here. Today, in between chores and periods of enforced rest, I'm making a moment to be with you. Tonight is winter solstice, and it is shaping up to be a beautiful one.

On November 30, thanks to some help from modern medicine and an incredible team in Labor & Delivery at Kaiser Walnut Creek, we welcomed our daughter, Aislinn (I'll share more about her soon). Heather spent two weeks taking care of my family and me, and I've been mostly focusing on caring for my children and allowing my body to heal. I've also attended parties, prepped for the holiday, and hosted a string of happy, wonderful visitors. It's been a whirlwind of activity leading up to this solstice.

Now, at my home, rain is pouring down. The air is warmer than it has been for a couple of weeks. I'm feeling tired and sore, but full of joy. My chores are being crossed of the list, and I'm basking in the beauty and love of my community.  Yesterday, my family visited the redwoods, and it has helped me feel healed and energized. I am ready to celebrate the return of the light in a big way. I haven't been this happy or excited for winter solstice in a while, and it's a wonderful feeling.

Hope is the point of celebrating this solstice. Tomorrow the days will grow longer. The sun will shine a bit more. Signs of spring and growth will start to creep into our awareness, and we will shake off the burden of the dark part of the year. For tonight, honor the darkness, and fill it with light. Light your candles, burn your Yule fires, feast and make merry, hold your loved ones. Reflect on what each means to you, and then open your heart and your arms to the light. Tomorrow is a new day with more sunshine, and we can use that to help us to make our lives brighter, too.

Happy Winter Solstice! I bless you with warmth, joy, love, and light. May your coming year be filled with spiritual growth, happy moments, and many new experiences.

Monday, November 16, 2015


There comes a point in pregnancy when the only way you can describe it is with the word "full".  I've reached that point this week, and it's a strange sensation.

Physically, my womb is full, as much as it can get. The skin is shiny and tight with the strain of that fullness. It aches with tension. My lungs and stomach are crowded higher in my chest than is normal. Each breath feels unnatural; I feel out of breath and my lungs protest that they can't hold any more. Eating, likewise, is uncomfortable. A few bites and my organs protest the lack of space. My face has a fullness, a strangeness, that it normally lacks.

Fullness is a good word for my emotional state, as well. I find my emotions leak out  regularly in the form of tears, laughter, and temper tantrums. Little things, both good and bad, overwhelm me. A sweet gesture can send me soaring, and a slightly sad news story can make me weep openly. I'm elated and frightened, frustrated and empowered, hopeful and despairing all at once. For someone who is usually pretty in control of her emotions, this chaos is dizzying.

It's nearly time for delivery, and I'm trying to be patient, but this fullness is exhausting and heavy. It's a strangely between state of being, as well. Before my first pregnancy, I would have guessed full to be a state of completion. Now, I recognize that fullness is an incredibly transitional state, and it is a time of waiting and discomfort and nervousness.