Turn! Turn! Turn!

To every time there is a season

Saturday evening I celebrated the Winter Solstice with nineteen other writers. We came together to acknowledge the cycles of the earth and the cycles within ourselves. It wasn’t the longest night we were celebrating, but the return of the light.

The Solstices are all about the earth’s relation to the sun, whether it tilts away from the sun or toward the sun as it makes its elliptical journey around our star. Beginning with Winter Solstice we’ll have more light each day from now until the Summer Solstice in June, when the earth again begins its tilt away from the sun.

A post from Moonlight Whispers a friend shared with me, tells of how ancient astronomers tracked the progression of the earth’s cycles by building structures such as Stonehenge and Newgrange, “not just to witness the pivot, but to prove the return continues.” Each cycle of the earth’s turning, like our own cycles, are observable when we pay attention.

Just out of curiosity a few years ago, I dug out some old writing practice notebooks. As I paged through those scrabbled, chaotic notebooks, I noticed that there were series of entries when my writing seemed more imaginative than other times, more expressive, and the language more vivid. In these writings my handwriting was looser, more loopy and open. Oh, they were messy, these several entries, but there were no scratch outs; the writing flowed without seeming restraint. But as I continued to go through the notebooks, I noticed other pages when the handwriting itself was tighter and words were crossed out, sometimes whole sentences. The writing didn’t flow as it did other times, cliches abounded, and passive voice plodded along. The images weren’t as rich nor the language as fresh. Again, these rough attempts appeared in a series of several pages, day following day. There wasn’t an abrupt shift between the flowing, imaginative writing and the plodding, reluctant writing. Rather several series of pages that were neither this nor that and some of each.

Because of my many years of having a writing practice, I know by heart Natalie Goldberg’s Rule #6 from her book, Wild Mind: “You’re free to write the worst junk in America.” In my writing practice groups we added to that rule, which we read along with the others at the beginning of every session: “And some days you will,” we say. “Other days you’ll write something really beautiful. And some days you’ll just write.”

That’s what my notebooks illustrated. And they showed that, like the traveling of the earth and its titling toward or away from the sun, my creativity runs in cycles. It too has its solstices and equinoxes, the phases of darkness and light. Which brings me to the truth of the words, “To everything there is a season,” from the Book of Ecclesiastes, and to which I can’t help but hear in my mind the tune of the song, “Turn! Turn! Turn!” by Pete Seeger and recorded by The Byrds.

My writing practice these days late in the year are messy and dull. Some days I don’t write at all. My tendency is to scold myself, “if you were a real writer…(blah blah blah),” but I try not to. I know I’m in a fallow time; but planting time will come again, and a time to reap.

What I can do during this time is pay attention, take notes, observe the world and all that’s in it, notice what I notice, and be grateful for this time, too. So long as I continue to attend to my writing practice and don’t judge, I know from experience the return will come and the cycles will continue, and sometimes, even on those darkest days, I may discover a gem among all the mess—a phrase or an image, even the fresh use of a particular word. I’m grateful for that, too.

At our Solstice celebration on Saturday evening we talked about the longest night, the dark when we go inward, exploring ourselves and our lives, and reflect on what wants to be released. Then we do our first timed writing prompt: What is found in the darkness?

After a few other timed writing sessions, writing our wishes and telling each other’s fortunes, we ring our bells to welcome the return of the light and close out the celebration singing with The Beatles, “Here Comes the Sun.”

What about you? Do you observe your cycles? Do you celebrate the turn, turn, turn of your life, writing and otherwise? What is your current cycle?

A few upcoming readings and events

New Year’s Eve Celebration–Wednesday, December 31, 9 pm–1 am, San Diego Writers, Ink. Come join Robb Donaldson and me this New Year’s Eve for an evening of fun and literary games as we write our way into 2026. We’ll delve into New Year’s traditions, write to prompts, and generally have a good time.

Remembering Jim Moreno–Friday, January 2, 5–6:30 pm, San Diego Writers, Ink. Please join San Diego Writers, Ink Executive Director Kristen Fogle and me as we host an open mic reading remembering our beloved friendpoet, activist, long-time Writers, Ink instructor, and respected and loved member of San Diego’s poetry community, Jim Moreno who died December 2, 2025. Please bring your poems or remembrances to share.

Captured Moments–Monday, January 12, Noon-1:30 pm PST on Zoom. Join us for this monthly writing group as we embark on expeditions to discover, uncover, and recover those moments of change in our lives. Each session will include generative writing from a prompt and an opportunity to share your writing with others in the group.

Warmest wishes for your holidays, may they be merry and bright and all your New Year’s wishes be granted.

Thank you for keeping company with me and The Lively Muse. We’ll see you in the New Year. Meantime, all my love and deepest gratitude for sharing the journey with me.

Just one more thing…

“Our calling, as human beings, is to look for the light from where we stand, to call it out, to gather it up — and in so doing, to help repair the world.” – Krista Tippett

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