Here we are once again @ the Winter Solstice, today December 21, 2007. In the winter skies the sun has just made its entrance into the constellation of Capricorn, the sign of the Sea-Goat that is under the rule of the planet Saturn. Lots of responsibilities are carried beneath this sign, or I might say upon the shoulders of those who have not only been born with the sun in this sign, but also for those who have a major aspect, such as the ascendant, mid-heaven, and those who may have the moon or a significant planet there.
The Solstice of course marks the point where the sun is at its greatest distance from the celestial equator, and shining directly over Earth's tropic of Capricorn. What we experience here in the northern hemisphere is the longest night of the year and what we call the beginning of winter.
The origin of the word solstice, comes from Latin solstitium, from sol, “sun” and -stitium, “a stoppage.” Following the winter solstice, the days begin to grow longer and the nights shorter. Personally, I can mark the place that the sun shines into my living room as I have watched it progress across the carpet since the Autumnal Equinox to now where it reaches across almost the entire width of the carpet to hit the sofa on the opposite wall.
With the world in such a state as I see today, it is difficult to only point out the fact that this is the time of Celebrating Light, something which is reflected within the many and various religions of the world. Within my experience, the emergence of light can be many things; light can illuminate that which is hidden by the dark and thusly expose secrets and those parts of ourselves we would not readily wish to look at or see. Light can also be so blinding that we are like the deer caught in the path of the headlights. Here we are blinded and cannot see what the light illuminates.
Many choose to see only what they would refer to as the good that light represents. In today's world, I believe that we cannot be so naive to believe that there is only that, especially when we look around us and see more violence being perpetrated upon so many others beneath the guise of making ourselves feel safe; when, if we look there are more people who are homeless, and more people who have been foreclosed out of their homes.
If we were to truly look, we would find that almost all if not most of the banking world has been playing with fire and have only begun to feel the singe of the heat. If we were to truly look, we would begin to be able to read between the lines of the newsprint and hear the nuances of the spoken words of mainstream radio & TV, and we would know that there's much going on within our own business & government that is not illuminated.
We cannot depend upon others to hold the light on those things which affect us daily. We must learn to hold and direct that beam of light ourselves. Only we are ultimately responsible for the state of our world and our actions, not others.
And so within this day that marks the beginning of the return of Light to our Earth planet, I propose to be aware of the incoming light as it increases each day and to mark the difference it makes. In light of my own inadequate words to mark this time especially, I came across this poem by Yeats that I would like to offer for reflection during this Season of Lights.
•• In memorium to my friend and writing partner Karen Bolander-Claus ••
THE SECOND COMING
W. B. Yeats
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand.
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image of the Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight; somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man.
A gaze blank and pityless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again, but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?
With expectations of many things to come — and also pass.