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.