June

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in the dark of winter

the pulse slows and quietens

the heart glows

Here at the end of May, the temperatures are dropping, and I know the cold of winter isn’t far away. I feel as though winter is the time when I need to fold in to myself, weave threads of slow, dark energy around my shoulders, sheltering, comforting. Sitting quietly, warm and still, feeling, hearing my own heartbeat. Its time to be quiet, to read, and cook.

I don’t want to fight the winter, I need to find a way to work with it, to continue the routines of work that don’t make any allowances for the change in seasons. And I’ve found it difficult some years – the struggle of getting up in the dark, coming home in the dark, day after day. The cold early morning and reluctant to get get out of bed.

This year – I want to hold this image in mind – a candle burning quietly in the darkness. I want to welcome winter, and adjust to the demands it makes on me.

I want to be patient and gentle with myself, taking time to snuggle inside, making soup, and using my big blue casserole dish to create one-dish dinners.

There never seems to be enough bright daylight, and so I want to commit to making the most of what little there is by walking outside whenever I can. This means making time at work – making sure I take a lunchtime!

And the glow? I’ll keep it fed with little twigs of friendship, conversation, pets, art, books, food. I’ll keep this inner warmth alive, hold my hands around my heart-flame, and be ready to breathe it in to life when spring comes.

just discovered this post wasn’t published in June –
so better now than never –
then I’ll be ready to add September 🙂 

August

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watch the sea
waves keep coming, waves keep breaking
in all this change is constancy

I’ve been reminded of change lately – the passing of seasons, the rhythms of life. The fact that nothing lasts forever, but our memories hold our dear ones close.

Going out in the garden today it was heartening to see fresh green growth, and new flowers, even though we’re still in the midst of winter.

And my old cat is seeking warmth, a blanket, a knee, and today, a sunny corner of the couch. She is sleeping her days away – I hope her dreams are sweet.

June


shift your rhythms / attend to the night / tune in to moonrise and moonset / fluid and regular / dark in the light / light in the dark

Here’s my calendar page for June. I’ve been so busy and distracted by 9-5 work that I almost forgot to post this. 

I’m definitely feeling the need to shift my rhythms – to accept getting up in the dark, getting home in the dark. I’m trying adjust to winter – to slow down and not push myself to do too much. 

I welcome those bright clear winter days when they visit – but today is cloudy and cold – just me and a book bundled up keeping warm. 

I’ve got some writing ideas underway – just taking me ages to finish things. 

©clairegriffin2017

winter dreaming

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it’s the tail-end of winter
and I’ve been feeling low
I have days when
I can’t imagine
how I will rise again

but I stand here today
overlooking the sea
on the verandah of a house in another town
in the distance I hear birds call, voices,
the low hum of the waves
little flurries of wind
blue sky to infinity
the sun pouring its heart out over the land
and I can feel, if I stayed here
my spirits would lift

I can see myself living here
in a two-storied house
overlooking the sea
with a room for books and writing
and quietly watching the world

I’d take the dogs I don’t have yet
for walks on the beach
bake bread and knit and talk

until the ‘real’ world changes
and catches up with my imaginings
part of me will go on living in this dream

© Claire Griffin 2016

winter wind – green gods

winter wind
blows in from the north
bringing mist and cloud
to lie low over the hills

and as the wind shifts
green gods are revealed

the thin mist is swept apart and
mythic trees step forward
out of ancient times
to stand for a moment
in the present

before the wind turns
and they walk back into the past

© Claire Griffin 2016

cold feet

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my cat keeps piddling on the carpet
and I’m tired of cleaning up after her
but she is getting old
and it’s winter
and if I were her
I wouldn’t want to go outside to pee either
getting cold feet
and reminders of youth
from the twin kitten strangers
who have moved in next door
and who, rain or shine,
delight in dancing about on the deck

 

© Claire Griffin 2016