May we remember the lessons of the farmers, who teach that the earth needs rest in order to be rejuvenated.

May we remember that we are like the earth.

Our bodies need rest and water and sun in different measures, but now we follow the lead of the sun and the soil and we dig deep within ourselves to find all the bits that may have become lost during the year, to give them light and space.

May we breathe deeply.

The air is fresh like water down the back of our throats and wind pipes all the way to our bellies and the creaking snow is beneath our feet. Our instincts may be to retract, to sink inwards, but we should only go if we have a way of finding our way back.

May we write, or make art, or make drinks, or make love, in order to keep connected to the energy that makes us who we are. As the world stills and is dark, let us explore and become more of ourselves.

May we remember that the antidote to isolation is connection: meeting someone’s eyes, sharing our stories, offering to be of service. If we are angry, there is someone angrier; if we are lonely, there is someone lonelier. Let us remember to both speak and listen.

May we all have warmth and shelter and food when we need it. May we be able to eat and rest without disturbance. May we take this time to be quiet like the plants beneath the snow, beneath the soil, so that when we are called to, we can burst forth.

May we all have a candle to light the darkness.
May we all find the peace we deserve.

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Editor: Bryonie Wise
Photo: PIxabay Creative Commons