Bitter, biting cold greets me outside my door. Night’s stillness is absolute in windless air, the sky hung with glittering stars. The Mighty One-Armed King waves to me from the southeast; he has returned to rule over winter’s nights. As I always do, I release into infinity when I look up at the darkness studded with constellations. Some feel small and unimportant when they do so, but I feel enveloped into the All-That-Is, warmly held as a fellow bright light among the rest, content in a sense of complete belonging. Inhaling, deeply, I breathe in the faint scent of woodsmoke, and breathe out gratitude.
“Hail, Mother of Night. May you smile upon us, and bless us with visions in our dreams. Embrace us warmly in our rest, be our blanket as we rejuvenate. Through your embrace, we will be reborn to the light. Slàinte mhath.”