As Yule approaches, I am struck with horror that I have not yet begun to make preparations. The problem is I’m probably going to be working that entire weekend with my nearest break being taken up by household upkeep.Not to mention my gorgeous little yule tree that I made last year was damaged in the move, and I am at a complete loss as to how to decorate my altar.
Last Winter solstice I was able to do quite a few crafty things. Here is a link to my 13 days of Yule last year. I guess I’m going to have to get cracking on those doggy biscuits again, and need to find my holly bats.
The transition into Winter was not easy as it was welcomed in with a death which was incredibly traumatic for me. During the wake which I held, I had a vision; so powerful, so potent and so poignant that I was forced to acknowledge where my path was leading me. I have been having incredibly strange dreams again, murderous trolls, swords cutting through flesh and bone, decay, fallow lands, black pigs, skulls and black robes at the edge of winter-worn woods. It’s all so grotesque and obvious. There is no escape from the work I have to do…
Gone are the leaves
On the Hecate trees
Shed to the wind till
Her skeleton claws
I am alone
In a forest
Dragging behind me
The howl of the winter
-Wendy Rule “Hecate”
There are many things I need to complete, work I need to force myself to do. What is preventing me from doing these things, is the fear that once I have completed them I will have lost something. Completion is an end, a death, a sacrifice, but it is one I cannot put off forever. Which is why the vision I had during the wake affected me so deeply, why my dreams have been tormenting me again.
During summer and even late autumn it was easy to forget, to lose myself in other tasks, but in the barren winter, there is no running, no hiding, only facing myself and the Work I need to do.
Procrastination becomes harder to do when you are staring into the abyssal eyes of screech owls and death hounds. I am on a path and it doesn’t matter whether or not I choose to take a scenic route around the path, I am always brought back to it, because there are things to be done…
Blue and Red, these are the colours of my winter; Water and Blood, Sky and Earth, Sacrifice and Liberation- These are the colours of my deepest devotion.
When I rip open my veins and lay down on the cold earth, it is these colours that seep out of my wounds. These are the colours of my dance, of the path I am walking. Heat and Cold; Death and Life; The ribbons twist and coil around my heart, and bind me to Them forever. There is no running, there is no hiding… only acceptance as I allow myself to be claimed again.