Solstice

It's nearly here again, after a full moon, a lunar eclipse (not visible here though): summer solstice (June 21). It rained in the night as if the earth was preparing herself, cleansing herself. I wait for what will be different. You may think I am a real "nut job," but since I was a young girl, I have been aware of time, tide, changes in weather. I feel them in my body sometimes but more often than not it is a subtle shift in perception, a slight turn in my mood, a click of attitude. In fact, even if I am not focused on the calendar, I am aware of something going on that sends me TO the calendar to check it out. One thing that happens is a need to sleep in another direction, like with my head down at the bottom of the bed, or along the bottom of the bed. Scratching your head now? I understand that. But it is true. I recall many times when, in the middle of the night, I'd feel the need to rearrange my bedroom, moving my bed to "feel better." This activity would often awaken my mother who would come in and ask what I was doing. I'd explain I wanted to sleep in another direction and she'd just shake her head and go back to bed. I'd call this phenomenon Feng Shui if it weren't so changeable. As I understand FS, it is placement of things to allow for a good flow of chi. Well, can chi flow change? Not sure. All I know is that my flow of positive energy, of peace and good dreams, depends in part on which way my head is when I sleep. I tend to "feel something coming" and make a shift in position. I do have a big dream catcher over my bed, but that is a story for another day.

I ought to be doing some research on this, but I am satisfied that I know my own place (last night I shifted to sleeping with my head at the bottom of the bed). I do think writing about it is interesting and fruitful. Here is a poem about one aspect of my "feelings for the natural" from my yet unpublished manuscript, Native Moons, Native Days:

In the Abenaki Manner (Alnôbaiwi)

We turn to the sea, feel the tide pulling, 

see something coming. We turn our hands in the earth 

to the corn growing greener day by day, 

spending time with her sisters, ready to feed us. 

In our manner, Alnôbaiwi, it is best to sleep with the head 

in the east, making it easy to see the coming sun.

In our way, we are always facing something, 

seeing what others don’t see coming.

And yes, I am Abenaki. I like to think I am plugged in to the cosmic memory of my culture, to the memories of the ancestors. I don't know if this is so at all. I just know how I FEEL. 

Tonight I will go downtown to Rockland's "summer solstice celebration," wander the street with my neighbors, listening to music, sampling tasty treats, enjoy the demarcation of time. Then I'll go home and sleep with my head facing east.