December has begun.
A delicious crescent moon kicked off the month. It appeared the High Priestess had reached down into the folds of her dress, grabbed the moon and flung it into the night sky.
The month of December belongs to the High Priestess. She represents the deepest parts of yourself, your psyche and your inner state.
December is the darkest month of the year. December is also a moment of revolution. Winter Solstice occurs and the days bend back towards summer. So, we reach our darkest point and then, like clockwork, just when we need it, in the nick of time, new light is offered.
The High Priestess tends nighttime fires. She watches as Santa slips down your chimney. The song placed Mommy kissing Santa but I think it was High Priestess. She stays up long after you’ve gone to bed.
I once sat on Virgin Airlines. It was midnight and we were halfway between New York and London. I peered out the window below. The endless expanse of the Atlantic Ocean spread out beneath me. I’d never seen anything so dark. I’d never felt so small, so scared. The High Priestess was there, caressing every rolling black wave.
The High Priestess hides in a gaping vampire mouth, in the yawning expanse of a freshly dug grave. She creeps around a child’s closet, and might be lurking under your bed. If your fears reside in the darkness, it is the High Priestess who presides over your fears. It is she who dares you to face them.
You see, The High Priestess knows, when you face the unknown, when you challenge yourself, when you confront what scares you – you grow. You grow in ways that can hardly be imagined. You are, in fact, born again.
And that’s what December’s Christmas story is all about. Out of the shadows, a new life and new miracles are born. Miracles with the power to illuminate, even change the world.
You, my dear, harbor that same light. It resides right next to your darkness.
Tonight, be brave. Turn out all the lights. Sit in the shadows. Welcome December with all of its mystery, emotion and exquisiteness.
And welcome your High Priestess. She’s waiting for you . . .
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