Hi Friend,

Perhaps you, like so many of my clients, are someone who holds a lot of space for other people.

Just recently, one of my clients was talking about her work, which entails shaping and holding a lot of powerful space for other people to make really big structural and personal changes around land and capital. (I get to work with some of the coolest people!) 

I asked her, who is holding you? (In addition to me.) And how do you let yourself experience being held?

That's a really good question, she replied.

Well, whatever reflection process you use as you delve into your own personal reflection time, you might want to consider that question. She agreed. 

It is certainly a question that we consider in our Circular Time Workbook and process … and our process makes it pretty easy to engage with these kinds of big questions.

Sometimes what and who holds us is clear. Sometimes it is not. That doesn't mean the holding isn't there (though I know that sometimes it feels far, and distant).

Within this mystery of holding and being held curves part of what is often offhandedly referred to as the magic of the season, the season of solstice. I say that with the awareness that there are some pretty deep levels of despair, despondency, grief, deep anxiety, rage, and loneliness that can arise at this season. That is true any year and, for many of us, the horrors of the ongoing killing in Palestine amplifies it.

The cold and the darkness at this time of year (in the northern hemisphere) are physically and often emotionally hard. Amidst our angst and our distrust and that desire to curl in on ourselves and wonder if there is anything worth hoping for, there is a whisper of a promise of anticipation: something is coming. And that coming does not arrive from our doings alone.

We do not turn Earth. Earth and only by Earth keeps meeting our basic needs.... and she turns herself.  We do not, cannot, turn her. Thank goodness that this, at least, is not up to us.

So many traditions point towards this. Irregardless of us, the sun returns. In this way, the cycle of life itself holds and carries us through. Traditions of this season remind us to give from hearts, and to give generously, because life herself grows from generosity. Perhaps we evoke a wild horned god, or perhaps the softest of fairies who dwells under the pinecones,. Our evocations are powerful, in the midst of all this darkness. We can have some kind of faith in the unseen and that which is to come.

 I've been appreciating the framing of Danica Boyce, who runs the Fair Folk Podcast, when she writes: "this nostalgic idea of bowering suggested by Yuletide greenery is a challenge — and no small one — to soften in the face of darkness....Today in my personal life, the bowering instinct says it could be possible, even pleasurable, to surrender to the extravagant promise of the year, to dare for a moment to be tender-hearted enough to have faith in its offer of blessings, especially when so many things around suggest (and even advise) cynicism."

In some of the Greek myths of old, this time is sometimes referred to as the Halycon Days, when the gods quieted the winds so that the Halcyon, the kingfisher bird who was once a goddess, could lay and hatch her eggs without them being disturbed by the torrents of sea winds. We need these still moments amidst the too-often violent winds of our world for our small creations to be able to safely hatch. We need these times when we can simply dwell.

I admit my own winds of grief/anger/frustration have blown up during some of these long dark nights. I've needed song and laughter and revelry, as well as candles and quiet-cozy. And then - ah yes, there, I can hear it. That place in which I can dwell, as I too am carried: held by wings not of my own making. Yes I can sense it, the promise at the heart of the work of anticipation (and maybe someday I will share with more of you some of our collaborative work around anticipation).

This is all a kind of magic, wrapped up in paradox and science. Amidst the stillness and the not-doing and the quiet is a kind of waiting, sometimes in anticipation... sometimes there is no anticipation, there is just stillness. Nowhere to go, nothing to do: just the simplicity of what is. And in that stillness there is also movement. Earth turns.

And that is one dimension of the magic of circular/spiraling time. It is not just about a "structured process to guide your reflecting," which, for sure, is super important and can make things a lot easier.

It is about the authentic pauses during the process of reflection, when we can experience how we are held and how we are moving in this dynamic web we call life. Of course you don't have to use our process to engage with this mystery. Surely there are as many entry points as there are people. You might just let yourself stare for a while at the softly fading sun; at the way the south side of the trees are so bright and golden and the north sides have such deep shadows, right about an hour before sunset, at least here, in these lands of the mohican/mahican peoples, in the northern hemisphere. Slowly, at its own tempo, the darkness moves up the trees, and the sharp contrast fades to shadow.

And maybe the reflection process that we've been cutlvating in our circular time calendars for many years now will be supportive of you. Or your partner, circle, or team. As gifts. And also just for you.

If that appeals to you, here are some upcoming dates for our online gatherings around circular time ( just choose one): December 27 (1 pm ET), January 3 (1 pm ET), January 7 (6 pm ET), and January 27 (1 pm ET). make sure you give yourself at least an hour to go through the workbook and begin to create your calendar prior to coming. Each session is for about 75 minutes. And if you are coming back - welcome! We love having people join us who have done this before. Try not to rush the pre-work. Make sure you pause. Try to feel it - the cycle of life that carries you, not because of anything that you did, but because you are a part of it.

May you enjoy dwelling in the mystery.

And if you want to dwell in the mystery with me one on one, between Winter Solstice (nowish) and Imbolc (early Feb) is a particularly good season to discern what might be some of the most enticing ways of working together for 2024! Just respond to this email.