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Hello friends, Last night, I lit candles in the darkness. This morning, long before sunrise, I did the same. Out loud, I spoke these words, “May we forever be light for each other.” I repeated that phrase three times. A prayer. An incantation. A spell. A call for hope. Today is the Solstice. For me, it is winter. For those in the southern hemisphere, summer. The ancients thought that on solstice, the sun stood still in the sky before changing direction. That is literally what solstice means. Sol sistere. Sun stands still. There is a reason so many of us hang lights during the darkest months. Since moving further north just under nine years ago, the comprehension of this need has deepened. We need reminders that, in the midst of snow or rain, sun will come again to warm the land. In times that feel darkest, we need reminders of light. But here’s the thing: we need the dark. We need space to rest and regroup. Fields need to lay fallow. The animals and insects need to sleep. And we need to remember that we humans are the ones who can kindle light. Ever since Prometheus stole fire from the Gods, Raven stole the sun, or our ancestors figured out how to set a bow to wood, or strike flint, we have made light. We can make light now. We can make light for each other. We can offer up our hope, our creativity, and our love. There's a solstice gift, from me to you, below. Best wishes - Thorn As a solstice gift, I made one of my Patreon stories public. It is a second chance gay romance set at this time of year in Gävle, Sweden at Yuletide: A Love That Will Not Burn Paid subscribers, I hope to see you at our creativity sprints this morning!
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Hello friends, Well… it’s been another eventful week here in the US and globally. In the midst of it all, I’m sure you’ve gone to work, worried about money or family or friends, dropped children off at school, cared for your elders, bought groceries… all of the ordinary things in life. I’m sure some of you have also been to community safety trainings, or attended vigils. Some of you have escaped for an hour or two into books, music, movies, or long walks. And that’s what we do, in...
Hello friends, It is early January. Another Gregorian calendar year. Outside my window, the sun shines after rain. Wisps of grey clouds hover low, kissing utility wires. It’s gorgeous outside, and feels still. The air is cold and soft with moisture. Crows call to one another, cars drive by. Tea steams its fragrance at my side. Today is another day to ponder, work, and plan. Today is another day to choose. What will you choose, repeatedly, this year? What do you plan? What might you build?...
Hello friends, Believe it or not—and despite the first paragraph—below are more thoughts about hope… As one Gregorian calendar year draws to a close, many of us are gazing into a highly volatile, uncertain future. The US economy seems to teeter on a precipice. With scant oversight and terrified or deported workers, our food supply is both compromised and costly. Environmental regulations are gutted. Families are rent apart. Too many people live in fear of what the next day will offer. This...