Solstice

When you own as little as I do, packing for a two-week stay away is basically the equivalent of moving entirely. There's an hour or two of total chaos as you try to re-organize things into bags, and decide on what few things will stay behind. Then, presto, out the door to a friendly ride and off you go. The last 24 hours have consisted of getting trained in the art of the latest pet-sitting job and staying out of the way of the friends heading, themselves, off on a trip.

And now, at 2 PM on the solstice, total silence except for the sound of wood crackling in the wood stove and the Christmas music I'm going to play periodically the next few days. There is no TV where I am, so for the most part I'll be able to shut out the worst of the world's demands, and hold an energy of calm. How very, very thankful I am for this moment. I know how few people have the privilege of regularly experiencing such peace.

For today, I am not going to try to visualize or manifest or make anything happen. For today, silence and stillness. For today through the weekend, the year's darkest days, may we all have a "stille nacht," and a few sparkling stars for good measure.