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	<title>Dana's Blog &#187; Cross Quarter Holy Days</title>
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		<title>Solstice Meeting</title>
		<link>http://mooncircles.com/blog/2010/06/solstice-meeting/</link>
		<comments>http://mooncircles.com/blog/2010/06/solstice-meeting/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 20 Jun 2010 22:08:33 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dana</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Cross Quarter Holy Days]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[solstice ritual]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[summer solstice 2010]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://mooncircles.com/blog/?p=1326</guid>
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<p>Recognition of the Solstice lies deep in your genetic code. Somewhere inside you know: It's time to bang the pots and celebrate the Sun.  Your arms want to open and receive its sustaining power. Your body wants to dance.  Tell your mind to relax.  Pretend it's a vacation day. Then, during a random hour, at your desk or in a coffee shop, the Sun will find you.  It will beam through a window and touch your arm.  Like an old friend.  Enter into this meeting deeply.  It's a simple and spiritually authentic Solstice ritual: Just let the Sun touch you and give thanks. </p>
<p><em>Father Sun enters Cancer, the sign of the Mother on June 21 at 7:30 am EDT. </em></p>
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		<title>Imbolc</title>
		<link>http://mooncircles.com/blog/2009/02/imbolc/</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 03 Feb 2009 23:43:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Dana</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Cross Quarter Holy Days]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Imbolc]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Busy with the usual thoughts, I forgot to celebrate Imbolc. My backyard oak remembered, surprising my house with sudden confetti. For weeks I’ve wondered about this oak. The rest of the neighborhood trees dropped their leaves long ago. Why does my oak keep hanging onto its dried-up soldiers—through rain, wind, and snow? Is it haunted [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img src="http://mooncircles.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/fallingleaves.jpg" alt="fallingleaves" title="fallingleaves" width="137" height="103" class="alignleft size-full wp-image-67" />Busy with the usual thoughts, I forgot to celebrate Imbolc. My backyard oak remembered, surprising my house with sudden confetti. For weeks I’ve wondered about this oak. The rest of the neighborhood trees dropped their leaves long ago. Why does my oak keep hanging onto its dried-up soldiers—through rain, wind, and snow? Is it haunted by the past? Is it bound, like me, to old ideas and worn-out expectations? The answer arrived on this pagan midwinter holy day, as the Sun reached 15 Aquarius and we officially turned towards spring. Under a mild wind and blue sky, for thirty minutes, hundreds of dead leaves began floating down. Visible from every window of my house, they called, “You too! Let go! You too!”  </p>
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