I wanted to write something uplifting to mark the solstice yesterday, this highest point of the year in the southern hemisphere, but I haven’t been able.
2016 has been a very challenging year for various reasons, and though I am proud of myself for continuing to post here, and I have achieved much, I have also come to realise that there are so many other things that I need to work on too—not least my health, which has been sliding downhill for several months.
Thus, I will be taking a short break from blogging to enjoy what I can of the remainder of the year, to rest, to work on some creative goals I have fallen behind with, and to read as much as I can through the hot and lazy days of summer (including my one concession to the festive season, Jeanette Winterson’s latest book, Christmas Days: 12 Stories and 12 Feasts for 12 days).
|A page from Christmas Days|
In the meantime, here are some of my offerings that I am most proud of:
An exploration of one powerful, and strangely beautiful, bird, and how fire and water are kindred: Fire in the Belly of Vulture.
The many beauties of autumn: Autumn's Gifts.
A poem of green union: Tree Woman.
A post for today’s opposite, the winter solstice: Wintersong.
A piece about creativity and illness that surprised me with its popularity: A Relationship with Illness.
A reminder that anything, even not being able to write, can be the subject of writing: Being the Mountain.
A meditation on darkness, which I got such a kick out of writing: Endarkenment.
And a call for new stories, so that the Earth can be saved: Telling the New Stories.
Thank you to everyone who has stopped by to read, and to all my commenters. I wish you an enjoyable festive season, whichever way you do or don’t celebrate it.
I will be back some time in the new year.