Eternal Return

The Winter Solstice is as sacred as any pagan holy day can be.  The return of light after darkness is honoured in many cultures.  Symbolically, the season of winter is considered a death, followed by rebirth in the spring.  Thank Goddess the days brighten in northern climes as winter's harsh bite sets in.  It's the lengthening daylight hours that offer hope that winter will indeed come to an end.

My thoughts have been with my dear, sweet kitty Lulu a lot these days.  A day hasn't gone by since her passing in early October that I haven't shed tears for her.  With the imminent returning of the light, she's on my mind more than ever.
I previously wrote (posted Oct. 11/17) that she was blind when she died, which is true.  However, she had been blind for less than half an hour when the veterinarian put her to sleep.  When I carried her to the clinic that morning she could see perfectly well.  I'd brought her there, after much soul-searching, because I felt she'd been sending me messages that she was ready to go.  I needed to know that I was right about that, and her passage into darkness, and then the light beyond, proved it to me. 
Lulu had been at the vet's a number of times over the years, and of course she was always a little frightened to be in a strange environment.  Her behaviour was the same the last time, slow and tentative.  But within minutes of placing her on the gurney at her final visit, I noticed that her eyes were covered in a milky film.  She seemed to have developed cataracts since we'd left home fifteen minutes earlier.  The sudden appearance of cataracts was puzzling to say the least. 
A few minutes later the vet came into the room and quickly observed that she appeared to be blind.  He moved his hand back and forth in front of her face, and she made no reaction at all.  She was, indeed, completely blind.  So I looked at her again, and this time the milky film was gone, but her pupils were fully dilated.  Cats are extremely sensitive to light, but Lulu wasn't registering any reaction to the extreme light in the room. 
Lulu knew I'd brought her to the clinic to help her die.  She was ready to go.  Sight is usually the first sense to go before death, and Lulu was preparing herself.  She began her journey even before the vet helped her complete it.  Her physical response was not fear, it was acceptance.  In retrospect I know that the sudden blindness before her death was a sign that I'd correctly interpreted her many messages about wanting to cross the rainbow bridge.  Somehow she was able to shut the light out herself. 
Grandmother Ayahuasca is also on my mind these days.  I experienced a ritual death and rebirth in Peru when I drank her tea last month.  (posted Dec. 7/17)  Along with the passing of Lulu, my recent spiritual death and resurrection makes this the most meaningful Winter Solstice I've ever had.  I am humbled and healed by all that has transpired in the last few months as the daylight hours decreased, leading up to this very special day.

As fate would have it, I'm going to a funeral home this evening to pay my respects to a dear friend for the passing of her mother.  We had originally planned to meet tonight, along with a mutual friend and fellow crone, to celebrate the Solstice.  Obviously our plans changed.  Despite the sadness of the occasion,  honouring my friend's mother's passage into eternal light is the most appropriate and meaningful way to sacralise this day. 
I wish you all a magical and meaningful Winter Solstice.  May the return of Light guide you to Love and Peace. 
Blessed be.
g.p.