Saturday 22 December 2007

Let's Start All Over Again (Part the First)

The Moon Through Our Window

People often say not to fix things that aren't broken. Well, that may be true, but sometimes you have to smash something; tear it asunder, in order to fix it. And this enables you to experience the meditative quality of picking up the pieces. And sometimes you don't even put it back together again. Sometimes you collect it only to throw the whole thing out, bury it, burn it, what have you, straighten your shoulders and start anew. (Fully aware that you've probably missed a few pieces and if you're not careful they'll end up sticking you in the foot, but still...)

You may have noticed that I haven't been around lately. My heart hasn't been in it. The craft room noticed as well, and so did Mr. S. and Safiya, I think. And so did the goddesses of house and home and hearth. As of two days ago, besides our little wreath I had neither baked nor cleaned nor wrapped nor prepared in any way for Solstice or Christmas. Not a thing. Until I found a voice of mine, an angry one, that had been shelved, and finally put it to good use.

This blog, this space of mine, is a little craft, a little political, a little mothering, a little figuring things out, a little this and a little that. As I get older I'm learning the difference between personal and private. That being said, I'm writing here to commemorate the day that my anger finally rose up to confront someone that I should have long, long ago. The day that I learned how purifying the expression of anger can be, how it can distill all the convolutions of a problem into its essence, simplifying it and sifting it like flour until you can look in the bowl and divine yourself by how the dust falls.

Tonight it the longest night of the year, and I am so glad to be able to welcome and enjoy it. And to welcome tomorrow, the beginning of the return of the sun.

Peace, strength, and health to you and yours on this longest of nights.


cloth.paper.string said...

good for you for getting it out, for sharing it here. for moving on with such grace. apropos for the return of the light, i think.

Heather said...

I second cloth.paper.string