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Halfway There
Dec. 21st, 2022 10:20 am This morning we went up the mountain to drum up the sun-- an annual ritual of goading the earth into closer orbit to that blessed ball of sky plasma through music-making. It was pretty damn neat. I'm wind-sore and tired as heck-- wake up time was 4 a.m.-- but I'm glad we did it. It felt good.
Mostly, I was focused on the mountain. I don't know much about it, except that the amphitheater in question is carved into stolen land and the "developer" who commissioned it had his house (located elsewhere on the mountain) burn to the ground after being struck by lightning. I can't help but find that to be a bit of retribution, although the mountain is owed more than that for what's been done to it. It felt... correct to make offerings and dedicate the music I was able to make to the mountain. A relief, like paying off part of a debt that's been outstanding for too long.
I hope that I can carry that into the new year: making things right, even if it's only by small degrees, for myself and for those I love.
Traditionally, we'd spend the next 4 days telling stories to continue keeping the dark at bay. I think that this year that might look like watching a lot of movies-- and my new close reading project with The Poetic Edda.
Wherever you are this week, whatever you're up to, I hope that Yule is gentle for you. I hope that you are warm enough and are not hungry. I hope you're able to take some time to pause and look at some light, and to hear or tell some stories.
Mostly, I was focused on the mountain. I don't know much about it, except that the amphitheater in question is carved into stolen land and the "developer" who commissioned it had his house (located elsewhere on the mountain) burn to the ground after being struck by lightning. I can't help but find that to be a bit of retribution, although the mountain is owed more than that for what's been done to it. It felt... correct to make offerings and dedicate the music I was able to make to the mountain. A relief, like paying off part of a debt that's been outstanding for too long.
I hope that I can carry that into the new year: making things right, even if it's only by small degrees, for myself and for those I love.
Traditionally, we'd spend the next 4 days telling stories to continue keeping the dark at bay. I think that this year that might look like watching a lot of movies-- and my new close reading project with The Poetic Edda.
Wherever you are this week, whatever you're up to, I hope that Yule is gentle for you. I hope that you are warm enough and are not hungry. I hope you're able to take some time to pause and look at some light, and to hear or tell some stories.