Solstice

 There is so much to tell you, dear readers. Since I've been gone an incredible amount has transpired - an incredible amount of soul searching, but some life stuff, too. 

Let's start with the most important. I'm happy. Happier than I have ever been, and happier than I dreamed possible, even though the path hasn't looked AT ALL like I thought it would.

Happy.

Katherine is thriving. Not perfect - she flunked a course last quarter, and not for the first time, but she's passing the vast majority of the time and she even got a 4.0 for the quarter in spring. It's a bit hit and miss, but the point is that it's mostly a hit, not a miss, and she is finding her way. She doesn't need to be perfect to be the kid of my dreams, and I have to remind myself of that, and of how far we've come. The kid who barely graduated from high school is turning into the loveliest person... and I'm so proud of her. Her integrity runs deep, and is without question. She is a loyal friend, and has depth to her friendships (and decades of friendships, even though she is barely two decades old) that she can trust. She has dreams, and she's working on her dreams. She has a job that she's good at, a perfectly college-ish apartment (no dishwasher, and clean and in good order but very dated) and a roommate she likes. She's had the same boyfriend since high school, and he's a good kid (man?) and they treat each other well - she definitely is better at relationships than I was at her age (than I am now?!). But best of all? We're close. She's home for the break and choosing to spend time with me, telling me all kinds of things and wanting to go out and about with me, and coming into her room at night to ask questions and tell me funny stories and whatnot. This is the dream when you hold your baby in your arms for the first time: that she will be safe, and strong, and that she will be loved, and that she will chase her dreams, and that she will love you fiercely just as you love her fiercely (you will always love her more than she loves you, because that is motherhood, but it's only right and true that it should be that way, without resentment or fear).

Katherine is doing so well that I can take care of my life, becoming the center of my life in a way I haven't been since my 20s. It's the strangest thing, this middle age (is mid fifties middle age? Am I old yet?)... my body shows the aging (I swear to gods that my butt is moving onto my stomach, my backside flattening as my stomach rounds, and I did not agree to this!) that is normal for every human; I have a silver streak in my otherwise dark hair that is quietly widening with each year, and which I choose not to dye. (My hair stylist is kind about it, telling me that some people choose to do such a streak... I think she's lying but I don't mind!) According to my doctor I'm 1/4 inch shorter than I've been for 30+ years. "Measure again! It's wrong!" I said... but it is simply true. How very strange! Because I feel taller than ever.

Taller and taller.

My career is so stable and lovely. My students (in a wealthy district, but still) gave me oodles of gifts and - best of all - hand written cards, telling me what my class means to them, what I personally mean to them. I adore many of my colleagues. My bosses like me and let me do the work. I finally make enough money to make my life the way I hoped, not paycheck to paycheck, taking care of the house, and able to buy the cute shoes (I still buy from the discount stores, but... still!).

My friendships are the foundation of so much of my joy. We have more time for one another now, with our children launching, and we do things like go to plays or take a trip or go on long walks. I host a dinner party for the same group of eight friends every couple of months, always on a theme, and my friends are game for the silliness of it (next up: a Gatsby party to celebrate my house's 100th birthday, where we'll all dress up and drink gin from coupe glasses and eat fun finger foods and play 20s music on my record player...). It's good. It's strong. Most of them have been my friends for 20+ years, and they aren't going anywhere, and I love them so. Plus, there's new friends! Neighbors, colleagues, and a writing group, most of them in their 30s, and their youth makes me younger, and I adore them.

My body is well. Oh, that is such joy! My body is well! No signs of cancer returning, and I can go for a five mile walk without thinking about it or even changing into workout gear. Bliss.

And I'm writing again. Oh, how I yearn for this, how I'm trying to create a life around this, how I am trying to become the person I've always longed to be, and actually the person I already am, but manifested on the outside of my life, not just internally. There will be a lot more about this in the future, so stay tuned.

There is more to say, but the day calls... a lovely day of holiday festivities, ending with a solstice yoga workshop, so I cannot linger here.

But let me return to the title.

Today is the darkest day of the year, and in my northwest town it is foggy and gray and we won't see the sun at all. We have made it to the bleak midwinter, the darkest night.

And I am well.

And the light is returning.

It's time to go inward, to rest, to think, to restore. Because the light is coming, and I can feel it behind the clouds, because it's always been there, its just been hiding (in Australia, I'm told). I'm on the cusp of change, too, building on this wonderful foundation of health, joy, relationships with people who love me as I love them. Stable in my life after so many years of instability, I can reach higher than before for the dreams that have always been inside of me.

My intention this Solstice is to nurture those seeds in me, to coax them out of the soil this spring, to turn them into the wild abundance they've always planned to be. The cold soil isn't dead at all, it's just storing up energy.

Creativity births love - of the world, of my life, of people and places. Maybe even the romantic kind, but I see now that romance isn't the most important thing.

So mote it be. Let it be so. Let the light return!

Happy solstice!