Sunreturn is the name I give it. After the longest nights, we whirl back to face our star.
Last night’s dream images:
- Riding on top of the bus–terrifying. I had to tell the others that I needed to find another way to get where I was going. I was too afraid of sliding off. There was one person–I don’t know who he was, though he was substantial and comforting–who let me hold on to him while I was up there.
- Trying to find route 76. Also called Trout Highway. (I don’t know a rural Rt. 76 in waking life, nor a Trout Highway.)
- Vast and glorious vistas–rolling hills and mountains, like Scotland. I think I needed to be on top of the bus to really get those views. Sigh.
- Getting separated from my friends (because I couldn’t handle sitting on top of the bus), but finding my own way anyway.
1. Watching Mandela with people from the school community last night. The turn-out was a little small, but hopefully it will still spark some good discussions about how to respond to unjust situations. “This is how it begins.”
2. Sunreturn. This morning. In a few minutes. We begin to whirl back toward the sun, begin to turn our face once again sunward.
3. Christmas Break. Soon. Soon. Soon.
4. Kindness. It gets a little under-rated, and sort of smooshed under the big calls for Change and Justice. It gets pushed aside sometimes by Righteous Indignation. But Kindness needs its own time in the center.
5. How these children are growing and changing and becoming themselves. It’s terrifying (No! Where’s my little tyke?) but so beautiful to watch. Just now, a small person came to tell me something, and I didn’t entirely recognize his face as he spoke. Some new, older child is emerging. Even the loss of a teeny tiny baby tooth shifts the way he looks, the way he speaks.
Salaam, Shalom, Peace.