writing our way whole: 27 at home with shadows

I have been approaching with trepidation the monumental task of Sorting Out the Photos, with shadowy memories of chaos-herding attempts during previous winters.

An unwelcome step towards obsessive editing, titling, classifying, filing. Or perhaps a more benign invitation to drifting and daydreaming and re-imagining and recollection.

An invitation to step lightly over the surface of the task, treating it (and myself) to the spirit of playfulness.

The spirit of good enough, of 51%, of “do-for-now”, of “no need to save it for best”. Seize the day, seize the sunshine, seize the spirit of September!

And remember: face into the sun, and your shadow will always fall behind you. (That’s how I have ascertained where north is, by watching the shadow at 1pm, British Summer Time, or noon at Greenwich Mean Time.)

Yesterday I was at a Animal Spirit Medicine session hosted by Jason and Nicola, my Mystery School teachers at thewayofthebuzzard.co.uk. There was a lovely quote that they mentioned that went something like this:

“Wrap your shadow around you, like a cloak …”

As we approach the autumn equinox, next Tuesday at 2.30 pm (in the UK), and draw closer to the time when the shadows lengthen, extending towards the longer nights of Samhain, Hallowe’en, and the longest nights at Winter Solstice, I shall choose to snuggle down into my cloak of shadow, at least for some of the time. While resolving to be out and about in the middle parts of each day, every day, to welcome the sun as much as I can.

Poets’ Corner

For readers of a certain age, the following phrase, in bold, may resonate musically, as it does with me.

(Aged eighteen I had a hirsute friend to stay who had just bought the album ‘Teaser and the Firecat’ and proceeded to play it on my bemused parents’ gramophone nearly all weekend. He also took me to a football match, Crystal Palace 1, Ipswich City 1, on 13 November 1971. )

Stephen B where are you now?

I’m being followed by a moon shadow

You can hear it sung by its poetic musician, Cat Stevens (later known as Yusuf Islam), here:

Have any of you ever been followed by a moonshadow?

Or even by the shadow of an eclipse?

Or by the shadow of an ancient memory?

And here is a poem from Murray Robertson, a friend in the USA, called wild thing in our garden, including a peaceful photo of a mule deer, and these starting stanzas:

there's a wild thing
   in our backyard,
under a lilac bush,

   sheltering from
      mid-day heat,
in such cool shade
   as may be found

Further resources

Freudian Falter

When I was writing today’s session, I experienced a meaningful mis-spell, which I am sharing here as another Golden Thread for you to follow, perhaps into a poem. I shall do the same, for my own Homework.

Perhaps we can compare notes, afterwards, via the Comments section.

In the shadows of the coulds

Go, write!

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