The Wild Thread: Moonlight, Solstice, and Sanctuary
Dearest Wild Ones,
Tonight’s moon rises like a silver gate in the sky, bright enough to touch the edges of our inner world. Under its light, the mind grows clearer, the heart steadier, and the threads of our personal story become easier to see.
This is a moon that invites you to pause and listen—to the quiet truths that surface only when the world falls still. It asks you to notice the words you speak out loud, and the ones you whisper only to yourself. Some of those words still nourish you. Others have grown brittle with age.
Rewilding begins in this tender recognition: the moment you stop repeating the old script and begin speaking from the wild, living center of who you are now.
When your voice returns to that place, the mind softens its grip. Clarity rises like breath. Life becomes less about managing the noise and more about aligning with what is real.
Journal Prompts
Where can my thoughts, words, and actions move in greater coherence?
What story or belief has reached its natural end, and what opens when I release it?
Turning Toward Solstice
As winter draws near, I feel the familiar shift in rhythm—gathering evergreen boughs, threading small lights through windows, listening for the quiet call to turn inward. This descent into the dark has never felt heavy to me. It feels like a long, deep breath. A soft return to the bones of things.
Every early December, I begin with an at-home retreat, joining the Ram Dass community livestream from Maui. Last year, I shared this retreat-at-home practice with our local community, and it became a beautiful reminder that sanctuary is not a destination—it’s a choice we make, again and again, inside the spaces we already inhabit.
After this nourishing weekend, I turn wholeheartedly toward preparing our Winter Solstice celebrations, one of the most cherished rituals we share as a community.