The Dawning of the Sun, Breaking of the Night, as seen from nearly 9,000 feet at Lama Foundation, New Mexico

Happy Solstice, dearly beloveds.

Today the Winter Solstice has ushered us past the longest night of the year. This darkest day is near Christmas, a day supposedly all about the cheer, the ho-ho-ho, the holly and mistletoe and kissing, and of course the joy of the birth of a Savior…

But what about those of us who don’t exactly feel the excitement, the happiness, the celebratory nature of the Christmas season? What about those who live in perpetual darkness, that is only more deeply highlighted by the short days and long nights, the black skies that seem to envelop our souls and torture our authentic selves?

For many survivors of sexualized violence (or any other abuses, trauma or grief), Christmas is not necessarily the “happiest time of the year.” In fact it’s full of past memories, regret, shame, disbelief, and often an overarching theme of cynicism and even desperation.

I’ve been seeing a spiritual director at St. James Episcopal Church in Taos, who invited me to the “Longest Night of the Year” worship service, a sacred space intended for helping us live through dark times. The service included a time of reflection, acceptance of where we are, and an offering of healing and hope. I’m not 100% sure why my spiritual director invited me, perhaps because I’ve spent plenty of time crying in his office acknowledging my own grief often caused by the church, but I was very appreciative to the space open within a church setting that actually celebrated being sad.

That is a problem I see with the Christian church, including the Mennonite communities to which I belong. For some reason we’re supposed to appear happy, appreciative, and in awe of the blessings we’ve received. And if we don’t show up to a Sunday service like that? Well, then we must be doing something wrong! We’re on Santa’s shit-list. We don’t have the right attitude. Or perhaps we’re just condemned to a life of sorrow. Either way, rarely does the church offer a space for us to just show up and cry. Rarely are we invited to get our emotions out, to scream, to lament, to weep over that deep shame, guilt, and sorrow built up in us from years of hiding in the shadows.

I’m amazed at how many people have noticed my inactivity on Our Stories Untold. I’ve had numerous conversations where folks have mentioned it, and I’ve had a few emails come through as well, asking if I still intend to keep the blog updated. Almost a year ago I wrote a New Years Eve post explaining that 2014 would be the year of taking care of myself, going inward and delving into what needed attention inside myself rather than putting all my energy and effort into causes outside of myself. In all reality, the causes outside myself were just mirrors of the causes needing tender lovin’ care within. I often say I wouldn’t be able to do the work I do with sexualized violence if it wasn’t somehow a healing experience for me, too. And I have learned sometimes that means taking a step back from externalizing my thoughts, feelings, and rage, and instead internalizing my dreams, desires, and feelings so I can better understand these overarching patterns in my life that create the manifestation that is currently me.

And let me tell ya, this past year of internalizing has certainly been a year! I feel like I’ve made leaps and bounds in my inner psyche, and as soon as my ego goes off the edge and thinks I have it all “figured out,” I’m slapped across the face with yet another insight into my being. And then I go into another dark night of my soul, lamenting my past, facing my regret and shame, and most importantly releasing these emotions in hopes to reconcile my being. This past year I’ve confronted a lot of aspects of myself that I’m not so thrilled about. I call this my “Shadow Side,” and sometimes on especially bad days it gets named “Monster Me.”

This piece is called ‘Harmless Monster’ as it depicts the dance of myself with my “monster” self. I drew this as I was coming to terms with this aspect of myself and loving it in its green and darkness (hence the flowers!). We are journeying down the road together when we decide to stop for a moment of recognition that we are one-in-the-same and realize we can do the dance of life together.

Monster Me, Ms. Shadow, Stranger in the Mirror…whatever pet name I pick, she’s still there, hanging out with the side of me that I do actually like, along for this wild ride called life. I’ve come to see that my shadow is just my unexpressed aspects of self begging for expression. The elements that make up my shadow have been shamed, denied, and abused in the past. They’ve heard harmful messages, especially from the church, that discourage them to move from the dark corners. They’ve been told to stay buried, to disguise themselves—put on a happy face and be grateful. I realized that when my shadow wants to pop its head up and be noticed, it exists in so much fear of rejection, hurt, blame, and grief, that it gets buried again. Ms. Shadow doesn’t get a chance to ever express all this pent-up sorrow. And so it continues to exist in the quiet background, showing itself in not always pleasant ways when the moon is bright or the sun is in the right direction.

My challenge has been to embrace these “negative” parts of myself that I would much rather not brag about. The past year I’ve learned to love both my light and my dark, the darkness that exists on the longest night of the year, the solstice within my soul. Through embracing both my shadow and the Self I want the world to see, I feel much more wholeness and balance in my soul. When I forgive my mistakes and imperfections, I have much more energy and light, and I’m not so focused on those who have harmed me. There’s still more work to be done with my Shadow I’m sure, but it is a start.

I wanted my work on Our Stories Untold to come from a place of authenticity, not obligation. This past year has therefore been about learning how to merge my authentic self with the work that I do. As I continue to work on my Self, a clearer connection is made between Spirit and Body. My choices have begun to empower me to live an authentic life, to live from love, not fear. And that includes the fear that exists in me with what people will say, do, or create to “tear me down,” to put a stop to the work I’m doing and to the Being I’m becoming.

If you create space for it, the Solstice can be a time for personal work, for letting go of the inner pain, regrets, mistakes, and blocks that exist in all of us; a time to let our shadow selves come out and play. This morning at 6 AM I participated in a Solstice gathering in Taos. We first sat in Buddhist mindfulness meditation together, embracing the darkness that still surrounded us, even with the candles lit. Then we moved into a walking meditation in which we washed our hands as the sun’s light began to show through the cracks in the bare tree branches. Once we were all seated again, we prepared ourselves for a Japanese tea ceremony, a spiritual practice and experience that uses sweet food and matcha green tea in a mindful way, embodying harmony, respect, purity and tranquility within a community setting. I then moved on to The Festival of Lessons and Carols at St. James where I participated in communion, another ritual involving food and drink, a ritual celebrating relationship with others, with God, and with Self, bringing to life deeply spiritual truths in a very concrete and physical way.

All these practices are pointing to the Greatest Truth of almost all spiritual traditions and religions: Love. By being present within these communities and practices, I become grounded in an awareness of a commonality among our earthly species. I’m provided with a deep sense that nothing is separate, everything in our Universe is profoundly and inextricably interconnected, and I am a key player in this constant heartbeat. While remaining connected to others, even during the darkest night of the year I can see a light that exists when I look deep inside myself.

I invite you to take this Solstice time for reflection. What are you feeling? Sadness, desperation, joy, curiosity? Whatever it is that you’re feeling, name it and allow it. I’m going to name a few practices you can do, offered by Starhawk, to celebrate the Solstice. One practice is to take a bowl of water and begin stirring salt into that bowl counterclockwise, letting painful feelings arise and breathing them into the water while you’re stirring. When a wave of strong emotion has passed, sit for a moment allow yourself to believe that change it possible—you do not have to exist in this darkness forever. Imagine it as a spark of light, perhaps a candle or a flame, that begins to grow as you now stir clockwise. Let the light expand throughout the bowl, and once the bowl is glowing take a small sip and ingest this light and transformed energy. Look back at the situations that have been painful this past year, or in years past, and focus on letting them be. If it’s helpful, draw representations of this pain on paper and burn or tear it up.

What are you intentions? How do you want to approach this year differently than others? Where do you want to focus your heart? What do you want to commit your precious energy towards? What do you want to promise to do for yourself, for self-care and preservation? How are you going to show yourself that you love yourself? Another practice you can do is to watch the sunrise or sunset. Gather with friends and sing up or down the sun. Appreciate the beauty around you while placing your deepest intentions for this coming year out into the sky.

Or gather with friends and discuss your hopes and dreams over a glass of wine or local brewed beer. Raise your glass to new beginnings and old endings. Make bread and knead in your dreams and visions, and consume it together with your dear ones. You can imagine the rising dough as the belly of the Great Mother, pregnant with the New Year Child, the Child of Light, the Savior, the Redeemer who shows us that the way to love is to first love ourselves and who offers us a new day.

During this Solstice I invite you to get your emotions out. Scream, lament, and cry. Take a close look at that shame, guilt, and sorrow that exists deep inside your Being. And then don’t forget to celebrate YOU. Acknowledge and love the darkness that is a part of you. Rejoice in the fact that you have been given this life to find love within yourself. Treat yourself tenderly, with the kindness you deserve. And relish the light that comes only from your Being. That is the true meaning of this dark time of year.