Winter Solstice: The Pause at the Bottom of the Breath
by Amy Martin (c) ¬† 12.21.12
Twenty-one years ago. Twenty-one years ago, I looked in, I looked into water so deep it lost light ‚Äď the transparent clarity of darkness.
Twenty-one years ago, I fell in. I fell into that infinite well of night, the darkness at the center of the soul ‚Äď faith that is comfortable with doubt.
Twenty-one years ago, I let go, I let go of the stories that evolved into myths, the memories and beliefs that contorted to fit the myth, the ties built on lies.
There stripped naked to my soul on that Winter Solstice day, the levee broken, the flotsam and jetsam of my life all around me, I descended into deep water.
Until at the pause at the bottom of the breath, the instant that holds pure potential, I surrendered the struggle, submitted the doubt, and found truth.
√Āve Mar√≠a, gr√°tia pl√©na, grateful am I to that which receives.
In pulsating darkness, I breathed of womb water and yearned for Lux mundi, surfacing in the opening between, the yoni revealed.
Winter Solstice asks that we let go of needing to know, to have faith in the absence of belief, to find the core, the spiritual being in the human body.
This moment of great turning, the slippery line between the light and dark halves of the yin-yang symbol, is happening now on this Winter Solstice day. This is the moment of the Tao.
Tonight, this longest night, step into the stillness. Release into darkness all expectation and attachment to outcome. Be in the void, be in faith.
In the fertile darkness, plant the seed of a renewed human being. Breathe the awareness, be present, be ready to be reborn.
For on this darkest of nights, there is but one word, one answer: yes.