Renfield (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
darchildre) wrote2018-12-20 06:45 pm
darchildre) wrote2018-12-20 06:45 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Tonight is Mothernight, which is the night before the first morning of Yule.
I think about Ragnarok a lot at Yuletide, especially on Mothernight - the UPG version of Ragnarok I have in my head, the one that could happen any day, every day, whenever any person decides to give into hatred and fear and leave the path of virtue. I think Ragnarok can be inside each of us - that we are all at any moment potentially the Wolf or Odin dying to kill the Wolf, potentially fiery Surtr burning the nine worlds down or Lif and Lifthrasir sheltering inside Yggdrasil. (Or, more closely to my heart, that I can be Loki Scar-lip, spitting acid and hate, or Loki Fireweed, who brings renewal after upheaval.)
The sun comes up on solstice morning as it has since before there were people to notice. It comes up with or without us and we know that the great external Ragnarok hasn't come yet this year. The sun will come up tomorrow too. And that can remind us that in our small, personal Ragnaroks, we can choose not to be the Wolf. We can choose peace and frith and joy, and to bring the sun back up. It is our duty to bring the sun back up.
But we have to wait through the long night first. We keep the light alive through the dark of Mothernight to remind us that we can keep it alive in ourselves, in the depths of our own darkness.
It's been real dark of late, I think. But the sun is coming up tomorrow.
My Mothernight music is usually somber and thoughtful. But tonight, I want something different. So here is a song about waiting for a celebration, one that's inevitably coming like the sun and will sweep us up even in our grief.
my heart's dark but it's rising
Glad Yule, everybody.
I think about Ragnarok a lot at Yuletide, especially on Mothernight - the UPG version of Ragnarok I have in my head, the one that could happen any day, every day, whenever any person decides to give into hatred and fear and leave the path of virtue. I think Ragnarok can be inside each of us - that we are all at any moment potentially the Wolf or Odin dying to kill the Wolf, potentially fiery Surtr burning the nine worlds down or Lif and Lifthrasir sheltering inside Yggdrasil. (Or, more closely to my heart, that I can be Loki Scar-lip, spitting acid and hate, or Loki Fireweed, who brings renewal after upheaval.)
The sun comes up on solstice morning as it has since before there were people to notice. It comes up with or without us and we know that the great external Ragnarok hasn't come yet this year. The sun will come up tomorrow too. And that can remind us that in our small, personal Ragnaroks, we can choose not to be the Wolf. We can choose peace and frith and joy, and to bring the sun back up. It is our duty to bring the sun back up.
But we have to wait through the long night first. We keep the light alive through the dark of Mothernight to remind us that we can keep it alive in ourselves, in the depths of our own darkness.
It's been real dark of late, I think. But the sun is coming up tomorrow.
My Mothernight music is usually somber and thoughtful. But tonight, I want something different. So here is a song about waiting for a celebration, one that's inevitably coming like the sun and will sweep us up even in our grief.
my heart's dark but it's rising
Glad Yule, everybody.
no subject
no subject
Anyway, I want to thank you for sharing this with us; it's wonderful and poignant.
Love!