I remember days around this time of year. I remember the love from family. I believe it has become a tradition of the many traditions Christmas holds; apart from religion, Solstice and Yule time, that you gather with loved ones. Family, tribe, friends, furry ones even, soul mates.
A soul mate reminded me about the greatest present we can receive in the Christmas hour, whatever we believe in. I am one to believe in love and magic, miracles and all that intangible energetic stuff, that transforms, enlivens and touches the heart and soul, so that is my prayer this year. I will be mindful of receiving and inviting that in.
I saw this poem, called ‘Remember’ by Joy Harjo, and thought of my parents who are no longer on the physical plane. I wanted to honor them for being in this life with me. They are with me on other levels. I know I am the daughter of the Universe, but still.. I understood in a brief second of clarity, that the grief still buried deep in my heart that seems to never really finish, is actually lOve, and the knowledge that our journey is waiting to continue, somewhere else, in another time, and though separation is an illusion, really, then in this reality, separation is real, and the missing a loved one grabs the Heart and squeezes it. And it’s ok. It is golden soul love in liquid form and it translates into tears, for some reason I just can’t explain. That’s how love goes.. you can’t rationalize it. You just have to let it be and be your companion through this eternal journey, life is. Wherever we go.
Merry Christmas to you all. Happy sacred 12 nights that follow. May your Hearts be open to receive, and your Soul quiet to remember..
‘Remember the sky that you were born under, know each of the stars' 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 are you. Remember you are this universe and this universe is you.’