Virtual Altar

Funguary Day 4

uprooted

Winter solstice is here, bringing the longest darkest nights and shortest days.

This is the pregnant pause, lasting a little less than a handful of days before the light starts to slowly grow again into our lives.

There are a few stories that were handed to me, they are similar except the characters change a little, it is either the mother deer, the mother, or the pregnant woman, who tenderly carries the sun, either in their antlers or in flying sleigh, in their arms or their belly, precious and beautiful, they guide it through the darkness so it may come out the other side and grow again, having rested, having listened to the tales that spring from the darkness.

The sun that will, eventually call all the medicine held in the earth up to the sky in tendrils of green, in unfurling wildness and beauty.

There are many tales that can be told about the darkness and it’s beauty, it’s vital role.

And at this time I like to thank those ones who work so well in the rich fertile places.

Ask the seed of the magic that is held in the darkness and they will show you a story of growth and transformation.

Ask the roots of the magic they know of deep within the black and they will tell you a mineral rich story of nourishment, strength and grounding.

Ask the mycelium of what they know of darkness and they will show you a story of connection and reciprocity.

Ask the worm what they feel in that blackness and they will tell you about alchemy, of the life that springs from death.

May you find, when listening in the dark, those things within, for they are there, held in psyche, heart and bone.

The brave and caring alchemist, the wild reciprocity, the strength and grounding, the growth and beauty.

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• Words by Brigit Anna McNeill •