Long has been my fascination, appreciation, and loving partnership with one of humanity’s oldest and most important allies - the blessed and beautiful bee. These industrious, sacred creatures communicate via dance, pollinate trees, flowers, and crops, and produce a golden elixir that has been used for thousands of years as food, medicine, and for ritual connection. The plight of the bee in modern times is devastating and heartbreaking, and heralds a critical call to action by humanity: in losing the bees, we lose ourselves. Their health is our health, so their demise is our demise.
When the air is clear, and the moon is dark, the great expanse of the universe reveals itself to us as a sparkling infinity of emptiness and light. When you look up towards the sky at night, what do you see? How does the sky make you feel? When I see the blanket of stars on a clear night, I find myself more easily connected to my soul’s celestial ancestors and a part of my spirit feels both expansive and home.
When I think of the thousands of people who came before me, I am humbled. Though I will bear no children of my own in this lifetime, my heart hope is that through my work, my words, and my heart, I can pass along at least some of the small seeds of the secrets of existence that have been passed on to me. From bloodline, from milkline, from soulline, from spiritline, I walk in concert with a cast of thousands. As do you.
For eons, celebrations of the returning light have taken place on the Hibernal or Winter Solstice. It is a time for home, hearth, celebration, and an appreciation of life, represented by the evergreen trees whose emerald needles cradle the snow, and whose faint voices breathe into the darkest and coldest of nights, reminding us that though the earth takes pause, life remains everlasting.