This winter solstice I decided to read an excerpt from my book Midwifery For The Soul. The book was published on December 21st, 2019. A few months before the world was about to enter a dark era; and we are still riding it out. As a result, we can mark life pre-covid and post-covid. The book is a pre-covid publication and at times, it shows. I wonder if authors ever feel the need to return to a publication and edit it, to fit the current times? I know I want to. Albeit, navigating the dark night of the soul (which is the premise of the book) is indeed fitting for the state of our current collective, as well, it speaks to the winter solstice.
True, this seasonal celebration is about the birth of light and the return of the sun. However, it is equally about the stillness of the dark; the quietude and hibernation. Leading up to December 21st, mythically, the psyche has been incubating in the underworld. To celebrate the light, we must acknowledge the incubating potential of that which has spent a good amount of time germating in the soil (soul) of the earth. The duality of dark and light are equally honoured. In the book Midwifery For The Soul: Awaken To Your Fierce Feminine In The Depths of Darkness and Trauma, navigating in the dark is the central theme. Instinctive childbirth is the metaphorical map.
Sitting at the table with my adult children and husband, I announced that it is up to us to create ceremony and celebration during this seasonal turning of the wheel. No one is going to do it for us. We must create meaning for our family, as we are spiritually orphaned. It occurred to me that my children have not read my books. Therefore, I wanted to anoint us with a little soul-discomfort to remind us, as a family, that outside of the consumerist corporate mehem, there is something very real gnawing at our inner landscape. Calling our attention, to pay attention. To not fear the darkness but to learn how to become a beacon of light. This light, I spoke, comes from the purified heart after having removed and cleansed away the emotional burdens of our personal and collective past and present. The passage I read (included below) was heavy in tone (perhaps not the kind of celebratory passage one wants to hear during the festivities of light). However, we can only know the beauty of light by knowing that which has been born out of the ashes; that which has died.
And so, I share with you all a portion of the chapter called: Trauma As The Initiator of Spiritual Activism. The book is part prose, poetry, and philosophy. It opened with a poem called, Death. I will read from the book.