Old Year, New Year

 "What the heck is this?" my sweetie asked. He was lying prone on the kitchen floor, peering under the refrigerator. "Give me something long."

I handed him some extra-long chopsticks.

"No, longer."

I handed him the fire poker from underneath the wood stove.

"It's brown. Ugh. What is this?" He held up a mummified pomegranate.

"Well, that's been there for at least a year," i said. "I only buy pomegranates for winter solstice, so...."

"A year? How about twenty?" he asked.

The old year dies today. All of us cheer "Hooray! Goodbye 2020. We are done with you. Goodbye. We can hardly wait to see the backside of this COVID year."

Another year of my life has gone. Everything i cherish will change and vanish. I cherish my life, and one year of it has vanished. I can see/feel the moments vanishing as i type these words. Each moment arising and passing, faster than i can say "pomegranate."

Vole Running Around the Bonfire

As the solstice bonfire leapt toward the sky and began to melt the snow in a three-foot ring around the fire, a vole started running around the fire. It surprised us, and i'm sure we surprised it. The fire surprised it. The heat surprised it. 

Voles don't hibernate. Come spring, we can see the tracks of their snow tunnels running this way and that in the brown grass.

I suppose the vole's snow tunnel suddenly melted. The vole was suddenly quite warm. People everywhere. Where to go? It finally took shelter in a small pile of kindling.

You've heard me talk about the voles eating my broccoli seedlings--all 36 of them. The voles take quite a toll on the spring garden. At the same time, mother voles are the most prolific of all rodents, having as many as 12 litters (= 100 babies) each year. Destruction and creation. Quite a keynote for these COVID times.

Where do we take shelter from the social change, change, change that surrounds us?

I take refuge in the Buddha.

I take refuge in the Dharma.

I take refuge in the Sangha.

A more enduring shelter than a pile of kindling.

Love Steers the Stars

As soon as our solstice bonfire got started around 6:15, the clouds parted and the half moon shone through. A few more minutes and the stars popped out. Our view of the southwest sky was blocked by hills and trees, but Jupiter and Saturn set at 6:19 and 6:20, so we weren't going to see the Great Conjunction anyway.

Since the planets were conjunct at zero degree Aquarius, some astrologers say this is one more step toward the dawning of the Age of Aquarius.

Peace will guide the planets.

And love will steer the stars.

May it be so.

Skeleton in the Living Room

The forecast calls for snow tomorrow, so today my sweetie and i are running around--putting away lawn chairs, storing away any remaining flower pots, and building the solstice bonfire. What shall i do with my Halloween skeleton that has been sitting on the front step?

The lawn chairs are spending their winter vacation in the basement. I turned the flower pots upside down next to the potting shed. The skeleton is sitting in the living room at the moment, till i figure out a better place to put her. Maybe in the solarium?

One retreat center i went to had a real skeleton meditating in the conservatory, surrounded by big-leaf begonias and philodendrons and looking almost jungle-y in the winter.

The Buddha recommends 5 daily reflections: 

• I am of the nature to grow old. Aging is inevitable.
• I am of the nature to become ill--whether i want to or not.
• I am of the nature to die. Death is unavoidable.
• Everything i cherish will change and vanish.
• Karma is the only thing i own. (Think of your good and bad habits. That's it. That's what you own.)

Today, fall is aging into winter. It's 14 degrees outdoors. Tomorrow, fall dies to winter with 6 inches of snow.

Having a skeleton in my living room reminds me: every living room will also die.

One More Minute

The sun is setting one minute later today than it did yesterday! One more minute of daylight at the end of the day. Hooray!

The mornings, however, are continuing to be darker with the sun rising one minute later every day. The balance point is, of course, the solstice--one week from today--when the gain of light outweighs the loss.

Do you hear desire? The desire for one more minute. Simply notice desire when it arises. "I want...." Say it again. And again. Feel how desire feels in the body.

The minute comes. It goes. Desire goes too. Poof!

Winter Begins

It's the first day of winter, but it feels like the first day of spring. The snow has melted; it's 50 degrees; the birds are singing, and the sun is shining.

We lit a solstice bonfire last night to welcome the sun back on its return journey toward us. I watched the fire changing second to second, dancing this way and that.

Change. The only sure thing.

New Compost Bin At Long Last

I finally did a project yesterday, which had been waiting for 8 months. I rebuilt one of my three compost bins. Two compost bins were full of last fall's garden detritus. I use a third bin as compost for potting up plants i've divided from the garden. But that bin was completely empty. The pallets that make the bin were burned in the winter solstice bonfire.

Finally. Finally, i stopped procrastinating and went looking for pallets. This was the unpleasant task i dreaded. My usual sources of pallets had dried up, so now what?

As an introvert, i avoid making phone calls, except in those moments when i just pick up the phone and do it. I had managed to not drive the truck to town to scout out possible pallet sources; I'd rather drive my car to town.

So many avoidance strategies. Such a long line of unpleasant thoughts: need new bin; don't know where to find pallets; don't want to call and ask; don't want to take the time; don't want to stop and ask.

And then the day came. Someone told me where to find pallets. I drove there. I asked. I loaded up my truck. As simple as that.

Solstice Pomegranate Seeds

Another solstice tradition, after smudging, is passing out chunks of pomegranates as we stand around the bonfire.

In Greek mythology, teenage Persephone was abducted by her uncle Pluto. (#MeToo). She has to return every year to this forced marriage because she ate some pomegranate seeds while she was in Hades.

Since we of the North Country are "married" to winter and darkness, we eat some pomegranate seeds on solstice--perhaps to remind us of the sleeping life force within us. Perhaps to remind us that we are in solidarity with Persephone and all the #MeToo women and girls.

As Og Mandino says,

I will love the light for it shows me the way, 
yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.

We stood around the solstice bonfire with a crescent moon hanging low in the western sky and crystalline stars twinkling above. us.

Smudging on Solstice

After a potluck at 6:00, the winter solstice celebration moves outdoors to the solstice bonfire. The first thing i do is smudge people--i offer a purifying sage smoke bath to cleanse the old year in preparation for the new (solar) year.

Smoke doesn't sound like a purifying bath, so you might think of it like incense.

Paradoxically, smoke from the sacred herb sage cleans our energy field.

What are you leaving behind in the old year?

Preparing for the Solstice Bonfire

The fire has been laid for the winter solstice bonfire. It's a brush pile covered up with rotten pallets--the remains of several compost bins.

When the pallets are new, i stand 4 of them in a square and tie them together. Voila! Instant compost bin.

It takes almost a year to fill one up, so that by the time the compost has composted, the bin has also started to compost itself.

On December 21, the pallets will take the express train to "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" when i light a glorious bonfire.

Every day, we deposit our own personal compost into the toilet. Meanwhile, the composting action of the digestive system is also composting its container, the body. Over many years, the body becomes wiggly, brittle, and broken, just like the compost bin pallets.

Let your unique light blaze forth while you still have a body to carry it around.

Sitting with the Dark Light

Winter Solstice! The sun has gone as far south as it can go. Now it's time to pull it back to the north. Today is the shortest day, and i am, unusually, short on energy. I just want to be a groundhog and sleep.

Wait for the dark, my dear. Then notice the light. The fulling moon. A bonfire with friends gathered round. The house lit with only candles.

Sitting with the dark light.

Earliest Sunset

Today is the earliest sunset of the year. Of course, as we are approaching solstice (sun standing still), it looks like the sun is setting at the same time all week.

Here at 43 degrees north (not quite half-way between the equator and the North Pole), the sun sets at 4:16 p.m.. It's dark at 4:30. Evenings at home last a long time.

 We think many things in our life are standing still--our body, our steady relationship, our house, our car. But really, really, things are changing every second. You have to look closely to notice this.

By winter solstice, we will have gained three minutes at the end of the day. Three tiny minutes in two weeks isn't even glacial speed, yet the earth keeps turning. Notice the light.

Groundhog Day

I love Groundhog Day. I mean, I love the thought of Groundhog Day, which has very little to do with any real groundhog, or woodchuck, as they are called here in the North Country. I certainly don't love them when a groundhog gets into my vegetable garden. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Today, February 2, lies halfway between winter solstice and spring equinox. In other words, the sun has returned!

Yes, it's snowing outdoors right now. Four inches since last night, but the snow is temporary. When the snow clouds pass, the sun will shine. And my passive solar house heats up to a-day-at-the-beach temperature. No matter how cold it is outdoors, indoors will be toasty. We let the wood stove go out, and the furnace won't come on. The day's heat lasts well into the evening when I finally start a new fire, an overnight fire, in the wood stove.

The earth spirits, who went to ground last All Hallows' Eve (Halloween aka Day of the Dead), those spirits are, metaphorically at least, popping their noses up to say "The sun is coming. The sun is coming."

Smudging

The winter solstice bonfire warmed us all last night. About 25 friends and neighbors arrived for a convivial potluck in our candle-lit home. The food tasted delicious. Then we went outdoors to light the bonfire, whose flames rose up 20 feet.

I use a bundle of sage to smudge each person. Smudging is a purifying smoke bath used by Native Americans. It seems counter-intuitive to think of smoke as a bath, and a purifying one at that. Yet, think of smoky fires that drive away mosquitoes and other pesky insects or smudgepots in orchards that keep the frost off of blossoming trees. As the smoke rises, it carries our prayers to the Great Mystery.

Sacred herbs such as sage, sweetgrass, and cedar are used for smudging, for cleansing our energies.


Here are the instructions from one website:

Rub your hands in the smoke to cleanse them; 
scoop the smoke into your hands and bring it 
to your head, so you will think good thoughts - no anger, jealousy, hate; 
to the eyes so you will see the world around you in a good way; 
to the throat so you will speak always in kindness and in non-judgmental ways; 
to the ears, so that you will listen truly listen to each other instead of 'waiting to speak';
to the heart so you feel connected to all living beings in a loving way; 
to the solar plexus so your emotions connect with the Earth Mother; 
to the womb, so your life giving energies go out into the world in balance and harmony; 
under the feet, this way your dark side and the world will not follow in your footsteps.

No matter what our spiritual beliefs, our intentions are to act as harmlessly as possible, and smudging is just one outer manifestation to remind us, once more, of our inner and honorable intentions.

Solstice Bonfire

My solstice party. It's always a task to move a convivial gathering out of our cozy candlelit house into winter coats and boots and down the driveway to the solstice bonfire.

This solstice day, rain began in mid-afternoon--a cold, raw rain--but the forecast showed a few breaks in the clouds. I kept my ear tuned to our metal roof, and at 6:45, after it had already been dark for 2 hours, the pitter-patter stopped.

The fire signs (2 Leos and 1 Sagittarius) dashed out of the house into the dark with paper, kindling, and matches. We didn't want the influence of any water signs (Pisces, Cancer, Scorpio), thank you very much.

Within minutes, the fire blazed, and we invited the rest of the party outdoors for smudging, pomegranates (a la Persephone), and anointing.

The solar year died this morning at 12:30 EST. Now the sun begins its long trek north again. The large brush pile, which became a corpse of glowing embers, also died. Meanwhile, we sang and talked for an hour outdoors before i felt the first raindrop, which died its raindrop death on my cheek, where it became running water.

Winter begins.