The snowflakes fell in slow motion in the cloudy morning air.
Not moving in any direction in particular.
But each making their way down from above,
Eventually descending upon the earth.
There was no rush to land.
It was all theirs now: the earth, time, the season.
No longer fighting for their right to be, they just get to drop gently, and slowly.
For this time of year, for this turn of the circle, the whole world, and all of the waters, are theirs now.
So, they take their time.
Their entirety of being taking up space.
They take root in their watery, welcoming home of Winter.
There is an easefulness when you don’t have to fight for your place among things.
~~
My breath, too, she slows.
Pulling in, slowly, gently, more fully.
Feeling the call all around me to be still.
To receive.
To slow.
To let things flutter slowly, flow, and settle into just what they are.
It is all enough.
It is all satiated, just as it is.
The slower steps, the darker moments of yin, the fueling from the light within.
It is enough right now.
The deepest quiet, that sounds like the loudest voice of artistic creation that bursts from within.
That is what this quarter of our cycle is:
The breath in… the easeful, soft, sigh of creation, out…
The Winter Solstice:
The depth of stillness;
The depth of the watery womb of the year;
The depth of the recharge;
The depth of the light;
The depth of softest, yet fullest creation.
pc credit: https://www.thoughtco.com/all-about-yule-2562972