Fully Woven's Advent 2022
“Is there anything more loyal than the sun?”
— Mary Oliver
Advent is a shadowy season of reflection and resting in the assurance of the returning light.This time of year is a struggle for many and my hope is this calendar of daily presence will be a soft place for you to find a bit of respite.This Advent calendar is a gift from my heart to yours. Let's journey towards brighter days together.
I'll be sharing poetry, short stories, recipes, craft ideas, meditations, and other sweet surprises.New treats every day at 12 PM PST (noon)
Fully Woven's Advent calendar begins on Thursday, December 1st.
Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six
Day Seven
Day Eight
Day Nine
Day Ten
Day Eleven
Day Twelve
Day Thirteen
Day Fourteen
Day Fifteen
Day Sixteen
Day Seventeen
Day Eighteen
Day Nineteen
Day Twenty
Day Twenty-One
Day Twenty-Two
Day Twenty-Three
Day Twenty-Four
Our Advent calendar begins on December 1st at 12 PM PST
December 1, 2022
Photo by Morgane Le Breton on Unsplash
Let's start our shared Advent with a blessing. This song calls in the natural world and reminds us of the wonder all around us.
The Lost Words Blessing
Lyrics
Enter the wild with care, my love
And speak the things you see
Let new names take and root and thrive and grow
And even as you travel far from heather, crag and river
May you like the little fisher, set the stream alight with glitter
May you enter now as otter without falter into waterLook to the sky with care, my love
And speak the things you see
Let new names take and root and thrive and grow
And even as you journey on past dying stars exploding
Like the gilded one in flight, leave your little gifts of light
And in the dead of night my darling, find the gleaming eye of starling
Like the little aviator, sing your heart to all dark matterWalk through the world with care, my love
And sing the things you see
Let new names take and root and thrive and grow
And even as you stumble through machair sands eroding
Let the fern unfurl your grieving, let the heron still your breathing
Let the selkie swim you deeper, oh my little silver-seeker
Even as the hour grows bleaker, be the singer and the speaker
And in city and in forest, let the larks become your chorus
And when every hope is gone, let the raven call you home
About
Album: The Lost Words: Spell SongsArtists: Jim Molyneux, Kerry Andrew, Bethany Porter, Kris Drever, Rachel Newton, Karine Polwart, Julie Fowlis, Seckou KeitaReleased: 2019
December 2, 2022
Today we've got a sweet and spicy treat - just like you!
Image from almanac.com
Pomander Balls
These fragrant balls bring a festive aroma into your home. You'll need fresh citrus fruits and lots of whole cloves. I like to use small Mandarin oranges but you do you. Oranges, lemons, limes, and even grapefruits would work here.Pre-pierce your holes with a toothpick (or thin knitting needle) and then press the clove stems into the fruit. The designs are endless and you could add a ribbon for hanging.Optional: combine 1/4 cup of orris root or arrowroot powder with 4 tablespoons of mixed spices (cinnamon, anise, nutmeg, ginger, cloves, allspice, etc) and place your pomander ball in there for up to a month. Turn every day. This option will dry out and preserve your pomander ball and it will keep indefinitely.
December 3, 2022
Image by David Mark from Pixabay.
Advent season unfolds over four weeks and each week has a different theme. This is our first week of Advent and the theme is hope. The remaining themes are community (week two), joy (week three), and peace (week four).In honor of this week's theme, today's gift is an exploration into hope. I've got a poem, a quote, and a few journal prompts.I know hope can be elusive and sometimes even downright obnoxious. For me, hope is ferocious and dynamic. It is the decision to light a candle in the darkness. It is not idealism or denial of reality. It is perched for action. My hope has teeth. My hope rises in protest against oppression. I don't always welcome hope yet it continues to knock on the door of my heart.
“Hope” is the thing with feathers (314)
by Emily Dickinson
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
Source: The Poems of Emily Dickinson Edited by R. W. Franklin (Harvard University Press, 1999)