It is Winter Solstice here in the southern hemisphere, the shortest day of the year and the earth's turning point. Every day from here will be a little longer than the last. The exact moment of solstice in eastern Australia this year was 21 June 7:44am, but you can feel the solstice effect in the weeks surrounding this moment.
Traditionally this is a time of dormancy, a time to slow down, go inwards, find stillness and rest in the long dark hours, like a seed in the earth. The local Wurundjeri season here in Melbourne is Waring/wombat season.
I like to make a cup of tea, light a candle and ask the following questions at solstice time:
What is happening now?
I'm noticing the sun is low in the sky and the shadows are long all day. The sunlight feels gentle and almost tangible, like I could hold it in my hands as it passes across the garden. I'm feeling very tired as soon as it gets dark, which is around 5pm, so going to bed by 8pm feels right. The mornings are frosty and dark and I can watch the sunrise after breakfast. We are in a steady rhythm with school and working from home; a benefit of what we learned during isolation. My daughter is discovering the joy of writing and I'm finding sweet little love notes and messages all over the house.
Many of us are coming out of isolation and restrictions and this feels tentative and maybe premature, but also invigorating. Globally it feels like a pivotal time, a time of dismantling the structures of the world as we knew it. Most of us have had long hours in isolation to confront our fears, our mortality, our interdependence on community and the local environment, and to wake up to just how important racial justice and collective liberation is to us all. I have also seen many people discover a new resilience and creativity in adapting to different ways of living, working and connecting.
What roots am I strengthening deep within?
A healed sense of family and place; knowing where I come from, which people and lands I belong to, and also knowing whose country I am living on now. I'm developing ways to acknowledge and honour both these ancestral lines in my everyday life. One of my physical practices is actively listening and rooting down with my feet. Just like the roots of a plant stabilise, nourish and allow a plant to grow upwards, so the connection and stability of our feet allow our bodies to rise up strong and straight.
What intentions am I holding for the next year?
I have many intentions for change this year - personally, in my community and in wider social systems. I understand that deep change is slow and exhausting work. I often think about this quote,"the times are urgent; let's slow down" from Bayo Akomolafe (you can listen to him speaking here). So I have been practising slowing down and tending my nervous system so I can be responsive to change rather than reactive or completely stuck. For me that looks like:
- living life at my body's pace
- having familiar and predictable rhythms to the days, weeks and months
- prioritising rest, expression of emotions and nourishing my body and mind well
If you would like some bodywork and nourishing conversation to support your nervous system at this time, I am now working from home in Reservoir. Check my availability here).
I hope you have a moment during these longest nights of the year, to slow down, tune in and say a prayer for the future.
With love,
Emily
