|as a supermoon set behind trees in the West|
Photo by J. Harrington
A second amaryllis has started to bloom. Two of four buds on one stalk are now open, there's a second stalk rising from the same build and the third bulb finally has what may be a flower stem emerging from the leaves. At this rate, we expect to enjoy a Valentine's amaryllis.
|dawn broke behind trees to the East|
Photo by J. Harrington
Some of you may have noticed that one of our favorite poets is Joy Harjo. We recently started to follow her on Twitter. Most of the Tweets we've seen so far are links to her Facebook postings. Her December 31 post noted that, in addition to making a list of what she's grateful for, she'd list and "let go of anything that will dim the light of the world."
Then, this morning, while we were reading about the festival of Samhain (say sow-in), we came across a concept that the period between Samhain and Solstice is "the time for letting go, for focusing our energy on what is important and also getting rid of dross."
Could it be just a coincidence that we encountered similar perspectives from two very different sources within the period of a few days? Perhaps, but even we have insufficient hubris to ignore such a coincidence. Time will be set aside this month to list what we spend time on that is unimportant. Then we will let go of some unimportant activities and reclaim that time to spend on what we've found we value more. Every so often, the idea that we could more easily get organized if we had less to organize passes through our consciousness. Usually, we simply take two aspirin and lie down until it passes. This time we may actually see if it works, but we will remember to hold on to what's important.
Remember the sky that you were born under,
know each of the star’s stories.
Remember the moon, know who she is.
Remember the sun’s birth at dawn, that is the
strongest point of time. Remember sundown
and the giving away to night.
Remember your birth, how your mother struggled
to give you form and breath. You are evidence of
her life, and her mother’s, and hers.
Remember your father. He is your life, also.
Remember the earth whose skin you are:
red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earth
brown earth, we are earth.
Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their
tribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them,
listen to them. They are alive poems.
Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the
origin of this universe.
Remember you are all people and all people
Remember you are this universe and this
universe is you.
Remember all is in motion, is growing, is you.
Remember language comes from this.
Remember the dance language is, that life is.
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.