For many including myself, The holiday season is a challenge. From the over commercialization, mass spending, circulation of toxic toys, useless gadgets, empty foods, and immense garbage. The expectation whether self imposed or externally commanded, often leaves us simple Earthy folk feeling drained and defeated.
We have also taken brave steps towards insisting on a season of nourishment rather than disdain. Many of us have taken bold steps in asking our families to downsize gifts, making them homemade or more personal, such as gifts of time spent together, planting trees in our children's names, giving gifts of health such as massages or yoga retreats, and focusing more intently on each others' passions in life as inspiration for these gifts.
There is also this funny thing we feel called reciprocity. I know I'm not the only one who feels this intense, burning requirement for equality. Although I'm immensely grateful for the many gifts that come my way in general, specifically at Yule I feel anxiety around the exchange; whether I will leave feeling as though I gave as much (or as good quality) as I received. These expectations are daunting.
I have not found a solution, but little by little I work towards a more empowering time. I want to see joy in my children's eyes, not because they have just opened a wii or a wad of cash, but because I finally had time to make cookies with them. Or because we chose a little tree together and cut it down in the freezing cold and drove back with it nearly flying off the car.
These are cliche - I know - the moments we look for on TV and give lots of lip about. But they're harder to get than we think. We cover them up with icing and candy canes and ribbon - for what reason?
Perhaps because we can't achieve our deeper expectation, our deeper hope, and the failure is unbearable. We feel cheated out of enough time or money or creativity to make it happen. Or perhaps because when we do reach it, it is so powerful it nearly hurts. Perhaps because the feelings available to us at times of truthful giving and receiving, should we be willing to feel them, open rivers of unshed heartache and longing for love and connection in it's many forms.
Yule morning for me is painful and beautiful. It brings me face to face with my unmet goals, my growing children, my aging eyes. It's also humbling; the sweetness of colored pencil cards, feathers wrapped in cloth, coupons for snuggling up and reading together. Long, intentional hugs.
When I melt all the overly sweet, fake frosting of the holidays away, I'm left with something just sweet enough, and just filling enough, without the sugar crash.
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In light of gifts for plant lovers, consider these valuable resources for the tree-hugger in your life......
Beautiful Handmade Herbals from:
Invaluable reading/resources:
Of course - finding local farms for things like winter CSA memeberships, wilderness programs for nature awareness and primitive skills, an invitation to a local Red Tent Temple or drum circle, or fresh organic meat from a nearby farm, are incredibly valuable gifts which directly reflect original meanings and traditions of this season.
May you come closer to your heart, your truth, and satisfy your deepest needs for connection this holiday.
My gift to you, dear reader, is a little poem of Witch Hazel which didn't make it's way into Plant Healer Magazine. (consider it a teaser for the article that did get published ;) enjoy......
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Witch of the Woods
Ahhh the sun in my eyes
Through eyelashes of Hazel
She
The Witch of the woods
Winking at me, flirting I think
With her coppiced heart
And divided wholeness
Whose reckless ways
In tandem bloom and fruit and flower
And when ready
Explode
So far as to reach the riverbank
On the opposite side
With her I go
Through the veil of October
Riding the winds of the wrinkles in time
As I laugh through my lines
And I see anew through the gauzy tricks
Of Fall and of Fey
And her mischievous way
Wands of witch, divine waters
Flowering pretty, her petals cool
I am taken to dreaming
In my hazel-eyed mind
Holding the hands of change
I sip a sunlit cordial of wishes
Of rolling like her wavy margins
In the wake of summer
In the wake of unrealized hopes
In the wake of release
I float along in her astringency
And wit
And wait for ripening time
When I can explode
And reach the other side
Too
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