Winter's Waiting Game

I'm not sure in all my wildest dreams that I would have ever envisioned a year in which I celebrated the Summer Solstice with John Friend and a Band of Merry Bohemians in the Highlands of Scotland, and then, the Winter Solstice with a Band of Maverick Soccer Girls in Africa. But . . . . there you have it! Life as a yogini soccer mom continues to provide me with adventure after adventure. While my Summer Solstice location demonstrated the power of extra light--it was light until midnight!--I'll find myself in Ghana, just north of the equator. At this latitude, life is less affected by the sun's changing distance from our little home planet. It's of little wonder that it was those farthest from the equator who held the most elaborate rituals at Solstice.

Although I'm not exactly sure how I will celebrate the return of the light this year, there aren't a lot of yule logs to burn in Ghana, I do know that I will set aside time for a small, probably private, ritual. Perhaps 108 sun salutes at the exact time of the solstice (that would be 6:08 Universal Time, December 22). . . but, then again, I'll be only two days off a flight across the world, who knows if it will happen? Whatever form my observance takes, I know that first, I will shine the light of remembrance on 2007, not neglecting to remember the times that fell more into shadow than light (as if I could). How would we know that exquisite radiance of the Sun's return had we not known the power of darkness? Then, my comtemplations will turn to the new sun; the new year; waiting for what lies in store.

I like to think of these weeks leading to the Solstice as

the great pregnant pause of the year.

The moment just after, "once upon a time." There is an anticipatory waiting. You know the event is going to happen, and yet, there is absolutely nothing in the universe that you can do to speed it along. This is the ultimate Open to Grace moment. We just have to step in, and be okay with the waiting. Engage in the stillness. Actively succumb. Powerfully surrender.

That's the yoga.

And so, I wait.
I wait for the sun's return.
I wait in the line at Trader Joes.
I wait for my flight to Accra.
I wait for ghandabherandasana.
(okay, that one I have more control over. Just practice it already!)