Solstice 2014/New Year’s 2015
Dear Ones,
Last December, after two and a half years filled with the tasks of readying and then publishing the manuscripts of both my own book and the companion journal book that Barbara (my amazing collaborator) and I produced together, I was definitely ready for a long season of deep resting. Blessedly, the Grandmothers have let me rest-on-my-laurels this year: no orders-from-headquarters forcing me out of my time of hibernation. It’s been delicious! I’m so grateful for this open time.
The books continue to sell, though modestly, via Amazon and a few local bookstores. Some days I wish they were going further into the world. But, I’m not yet up for doing anything that involves being out in public doing readings or interviews or whatever might make them more visible. Should the Grandmothers nudge me out there, though, I suspect I’ll be available.
Occasionally, I get nostalgic and wonder if I’ll ever again be swept into a project that might mean as much/ be as fulfilling as the book process has been or as the further-back-in-time developing of the old For the Little Ones website had been. Then, very quickly, I remember how much I still hunger for the gentle, drifty flow of this peaceful season of simply tending my sanctuary and working a few hours a month.
In the middle of hanging out in my slow lane life this year, I was visited by an odd and annoying sequence of challenging (though not serious) physical complaints the origins of which remained (for the most part) obscure. Patience with and compassion for my body as it (very) slowly made its recovery from each of these insults to its integrity was the daily lesson. Except for a few random melt-downs, I was mostly able to embrace the limitations and/or discomforts. Physical healing does, though, I’ve discovered, take much longer these days than it did when I was younger, sigh!
Despite these odd challenges, it’s been an amazing year. The books – the legacy of my life-long healing journey – are out there; I’ve completed the assignment from the Grandmothers that began with my midwifing the Rememberings and Celebrations Cards in 1990-1991. Readers let me know that the tales of my journey and the lessons I’ve drawn from them are resonating: providing support and nourishment for their own unfoldings. This makes me so happy! Several say they’re using the books as oracles: opening to random pages and then reading that particular tale (in the book) or drawing/writing in response to that particular prompt (in the journal) rather than reading either from cover to cover. As oracles, the books apparently are having the same Grandmother magic that the R & C Cards have always had: providing the very reminders one needs to hear in the moment. I love it!
Wishing you a gentle, sweet and nourishing year ahead even as the world around us gets crazier by the minute.
Robyn
