Woman Most Wild. Danielle Dulsky

role in the cosmic dance. You, stellar Witch, are reveling in perfect rhythm with the astral plane. You are star-stuff. Feel how these solar cycles live in your body, not subtly as the moon cycles do but actively and often without apology. To ignore the sun’s cycles is to be partially asleep, so open your mouth skyward and feel the heat on your tongue. Solar magick is spirit magick, and your inner Sun-Priestess remembers why.

      In this chapter I offer you dream visions of seasonal transitions, rituals and meditations for living in alignment with these solar cycles, and glimpses into how the broad spiral of solar time shapes wild woman spirituality. While you may resonate more with the description of the season during which you are reading this, consider all seasons within the ever-turning wheel of the solar year. An understanding of how winter’s whispered voice begs you to rest will add much to your lived experience of summer’s sultry song. The seasons do not exist in a vacuum; they are points on a cyclical and enduring journey that is at once futuristic and ancient.

      Before reading this chapter, take a moment to recall how your body and mind greeted the seasonal transitions during your girlhood. Close your eyes and remember the natural omens of solar change: the morning birds in spring, the late-evening sunset in summer, the dim rays shining through a nearly bare tree in autumn, and the chill of sunlessness on your cheeks in winter. These brief moments of pure presence alerted you to your place in the ecological turning of the wild wheel. You knew in your bones that you were a single pulse beat within the many-hearted Mother, and there was much soft-breasted comfort in that knowing.

THE WINTER WITCHClaiming Your Rest

      A woman struggles deeply when the ways of the social world contrast sharply with the rhythms of nature. The Witch in winter faces a powerful social challenge; while all the world is bustling to commemorate various holidays with gift giving and candlelit perfection, the natural world is bidding you to come to bed. The winter solstice marks the longest night of the year, with the dawn after this long night deserving of immense gratitude. The rhythms of winter are slow and dark. You are a Goddess on the nest at this time, and it is normal to reject the intensity with which our consumer culture urges you to act. Move slowly and with purpose, winter Witch. Do not create that vision board just yet. Claim your rest, and know that all is waiting for you by the light of day.

       The Return of the Light: A Yuletide Ritual for a Witch Most Tired

      Carve out a bit of space and time for yourself on the winter solstice, my love. Draw the curtains, and go into your cave. Light no candles, and cast no spells. Let yourself be in a space of absolute darkness. In your left hand, hold a box of matches and feel the vibrant possibility of fire. Know the power of this sacred blaze’s potential, though it has not yet been realized. Relish the honor of being a fire keeper. Center your consciousness at your crown, and recall ancient memories of your ancestors, who stood within stone circles or other ritualistic spaces, awaiting the sunrise on this very day. Let a quiver of fear run through your bones, just as it ran through theirs: Will the sun truly return? Will life carry on? Is there an end to this enduring night? Honor these queries as primitive fuel for your flame now, and strike a single match.

      The blaze illuminates your beauteous face and fills in the crevices around your tired eyes. The warmth of this flame, from the core of the Earth to the core of your belly to the core of the blessed sun, is the same as that which melted the trepidations of those in your bloodline. This flame is your inner dawn. Open to it, and drink in the spicy magick of a single flame lit within the blackness of winter. Let it nourish you, for you do not need much right now. This single flame is enough. Feel its warmth on your fingers, and then snuff it out just as the winter sun rises pink in a cold gray sky.

      Now to bed, my love. Claim those last few moments of sleep, for the day will wait for you. You are a Witch most tired, and all your ancestral grandmothers want to tuck you into a warm bed. Lay your head heavy on a lavender-scented pillow, and feel your room surrounded by the spirits of sleep. Let them lull you into a snowy dreamland where all the presents have been wrapped, the meals have been cooked, the parties have been attended, and there is nothing more for you to do. You are neither consumer nor producer in sleep; you are simply a tired woman, claiming her right to rest. Hear the voices of the hooded ones as they sing you whispered lullabies and remind you, once again, of who you truly are.

      Find an ancient solace in the smallest bit of firelight. Women understand the promise of the light’s return, for we have all been lonely lovers staring at a mass of black water and night sky, waiting for the return of a great something that has left us in our depths. The winter solstice is a time to wait without expectation, to rest without a plan to move, and to trust the infinite Mystery. A candle lit within a dark room is a harbinger of the yet-to-come, and small rituals like these do much to warm the heart weary of the wait.

       Gift for the Miracle Mother: A Guided Meditation

      Let this pathwork gift you with a renewed sense of purpose as winter waxes. In your dreams, you come to a frozen land. Your breath fogs in the cold, but your body is oddly warm in this frost-laden snowscape. The field before you is covered with a layer of virgin snow, whole unto itself, and the full moon glitters on the bare branches of the mighty oaks to your right. To your left is an uninviting cave entrance, the stone covered in moss-filled carvings of ancient symbols. To your Witch’s mind, they appear to be symbols of protection.

      Dull light flickers from inside this subterranean space, and despite the entryway’s jagged, toothy images, you feel called to go inside. Move stealthily now, winter Witch, and listen intently to your belly brain. You do not know what waits for you inside, my love, so be guarded. Once inside, you are aware that the cave is quite large, though you duck the dripping, crystalline stalactite formations. The cave smells thickly of cold mud and contains an ancient, mythic memory. Firelight flickers from a still-distant place, and you begin to hear voices of the Old Ones. They echo stories of the miracle children, beings of light come to herald humanity’s evolution; these famed ones came too early, the voices tell you, and their sacred messages were nurtured inside their mother’s wombs long before those souls spoke to any crowd.

      The light grows brighter as the voices grow quieter, and you find the source of the flame. She lies on a birthing bed most holy, surrounded by those who worship Her not because of what she holds in Her womb but because of Her own magnificence. This is the Mother of Miracles, dear one, and She begs you to trust your part in global transformation. Her labor has endured for millennia, and She is birthing the whole of the cosmos into being. Fall to your knees, Witch, and gaze upon this sacred moment. Today is our birthday, yours and mine, and this is our Mother. Look to Her birthing bed, my love, and know that all the blood that has been spilled, in every war and every horrific ego-born massacre, has been part of Her labor.

      Gaze at the light dawning between the Miracle Mother’s legs, and let your eyes weep for the beauty that is coming. We wild women stand at the precipice of a new feminine age. We are witnesses to awakened humanity’s baby naming. This is it. Feel the warmth of enlightenment on your bare skin, and offer a gift to the Miracle Mother. What do you have for Her? What is your soul-designed purpose in this life? Cup your divine spark in your hands, and crouch at the Mother’s side. You are overcome by the gratitude emanating from Her eyes as you offer Her your soul’s gift. She has been waiting for you. Be Her midwife now as She enters the final stages of birthing our light into the dark. Do not feel you are unworthy, Gift Giver, for you are the one She needs at Her side now. You are the one for whom She has been waiting.

      At this pivotal moment, women everywhere are waking to their designated task as wild healers of our wounded world. Know yourself as the Mother of Miracles, and trust your passions and desires as sacred clues to your purpose in this life. Make no mistake, Sister, you have been born for a reason, and the greatest change agent on our planet is a woman speaking her truth, telling her story, and fulfilling her divine mandate freely and without apology. Bill Plotkin writes in Soulcraft that “if, over time, you patiently hold your soul story within the context of your world story, at some point they will merge like a puzzle piece fitting into a greater mystery.” Women who carefully shape the landscape of their individual lives now, as our human community shivers in its own