dark night and dreams
Well the actual solstice came quietly at the barn. The pre-party however did not. Here at the “barn” we hosted our little homeschool community’s solstice yule party a bit early (due to everyone’s schedules and having a gorgeous full moon). Complete with bonfire!
About a week prior we all got together to make yule logs wrapped with wishes and intentions for the new year. One of our mom’s told a beautiful story-about how we need the dark as much as the light, the quiet as much as the fun, the sad as much as the joy and how the Universe balances and assures us that if we let go, it will be okay. She told it in such a lovely way that it felt just right for the kiddos but us parents felt the “heavy” as we contemplated this time of year. All the kids threw their yule logs into the fire in an unusually quiet moment towards the end of the wild child-ness. Each child lit a candle and walked the solstice/advent path upon leaving. For those of you familiar with this waldorf tradition, yes we did a path rather than the traditional spiral for several reasons. It was a nice transition though from the bonfire party to the quieting down, going within and carrying light into the dark night home.
Wishing you all sweet solstice dreams…
solstice from the barn
A quiet solstice day and night it has been. Last night, the near full moon turned red. Today was an all-time record heat day. Emotions and turbulence have run high. Kept it as calm and quiet this long, hot day as I could manage for my own well-being. Molded yellow beeswax suns to hang in the window. Baked sun cookies. Hosed the horses down with cold mist twice and added ice to their water in the middle of the day. Settled outside to watch the full moon rise silent with my little girl and her dog. Sudden dark clouds blew in. Covered the moon rise completely. We still admired the fire red spot of Mars and had some juice under the stars. I got her out of bed later when the clouds cleared enough to see the moon. It did not have the red it raged last night in my solitude. Sudden gusts of wind blew a chair over and then a sprinkle of rain that passed so quickly we would’ve never known had we not been standing under the wide open sky at that moment. In the midst of chaos, I tried to find the gratitude in that moment and gave her a kiss on the cheek as she went back to bed.
Disneyland vs. The Barn
Need I declare winner for you? Ahem, just in case y’all don’t know me that well yet…The Barn wins hands (and hooves) down.
Long story, short: made the ever so “American” trip To Disneyland. Nothing against it, my friends, I nearly grew up there–being born and raised not far from the happy lights of D town. Many years and a lifetime away, I didn’t necessarily have plans to go back. Geez the pressures of parenthood. Can’t all you parents tell your kids not to preach Disney to my kids? Well, my daughter’s been asking and asking. I kept telling her “you have to be at least 9 years old to enjoy it”. Right? Well, number one: I learned my lesson about never giving an age or a date. Just keep saying “someday” or “when you’re older”. KEEP SAYING IT, next thing you might know is you never had to subject your family to this ridiculous stress. And number two: I took her to Disneyland. We drank the kool-aid. We did the family vacation for her 9th birthday celebration.
For the sake of time, brevity and the fact that I’m sure you all don’t need another visitor’s guide to Disneyland…I’ll just say I’ll take the barn. I’ll take a quiet trail ride in the fresh open air. I’ll take the REAL. I’ll even take the hard work. The mucking stalls in muddy rain boots while the world passes me by. The freedom of flight over a jump. The smile on my daughter’s face when she rounds that last barrel and flies home to the clock at a 4H ride. If I’m going to be sweaty, sore, have dirt in my mouth and be in a really bad mood it’s going to be from getting bucked off a darn horse, not from spending the day at the “happiest place on earth”.
I worried, for a second, that this post may come off as negative. But then I remind myself that anyone who begs to differ with my rendition of happiness…well, they have probably never had the privilege of living in a barn.