We've passed the solstice so each day a little more light comes into our lives. This sounds like everything should be lovely. The light has returned. In the north, we still have months to slog through frigid, snowy weather. Weather which goes a long way in keeping us inside. In essence, we are hibernating in our own way.
It may be the light part of the year but the light is in its infancy. It builds a little every day like we learn a little each day as a child. It will be baby steps until Midsummer. Each day will bring a little more enlightenment into our lives.
At long last we’ve entered into the dark time of the year, which marks both the end of an old year and the beginning of the new. This time is of special significant to many cultures and religions. Notably Christians celebrate the birth of their savior while many traditional religions mark the darkest night of the year—the Winter Solstice—as a special holy night just a few days earlier. Additionally, for many the New Year’s itself, as marked by the Gregorian calendar, is an incredibly important day in its own right.
We hope you have exited 2017 happier and healthier than you began it. Either way, we wish you a very merry 2018. As always, we’ve gathered some reading to keep you occupied ;-) . Happy holidays!
When the holidays roll around, it can be difficult to hang on to spiritual meaning. I have no beef with Starbuck cups or shopping mall Santas. But I want my kids to stay in touch with what Yule is all about. For us, that’s solstice, the longest night and all that it brings with it. It’s easy to honor Brigid and the gift of growing light and warmth at Imbolc when there’s no mainstream commercial holiday to vying for kids’ attention. But trying to merge commercial Christmas with Yule makes for a much harder sell.
One way I work to reinforce the spiritual meaning of Yule is to make sure my kids get plenty of time outdoors. It’s fun to bundle up and set out on bike or on foot. Family hikes offer a chance to enjoy the brisk air and observe what the season really brings. The kids enjoy the discovery of vacated nests, animal tracks in the icy ground or snow, and the different shades of evergreens. Armed with flashlights or dollar store glowsticks, they like to go out into the backyard and marvel at how early darkness arrives now, often before dinner! Our telescope is permanently set out on our front porch so we (or the neighbors, if so inclined) can marvel at the intensity of the Long Night Moon.
The normal association with mistletoe at this time of the year is the cut stuff we bring indoors to decorate with. However, there’s more mistletoe celebrating to be done than this!
Once the leaves are down from the trees, you have your best chance at finding mistletoe in the wild. It doesn’t grow everywhere – I used to struggle to see any at all when I lived in the Midlands, but Gloucestershire (south west UK) has loads. As you can see from the photo, mistletoe in trees isn't always that self announcing and you have to pay attention to spot it - which makes finding it all the more rewarding.
The winter solstice is the shortest day of the year. It literally means that the sun stands still: from the Latin sol (sun) and sistere (standing still). The midwinter sun rises at its furthest point in the southeast and sets in its nearest point in the southwest, thus making the shortest and lowest circuit in the sky. For three days (the day before, the day of and the day after the solstice) the sun rises and sets on the same points of the horizon, until it begins to rise further east and set further west with each and every day. This phenomenon occurs between 20 - 22 December each year. The Welsh name for this time is Alban Arthan, a term coined by the 19th century poet and writer of forgeries, Iolo Morganwg. This translates as "Light of Winter" or "Light of the Bear", although it is also known as Alban Arthuan, which means "Light of Arthur". The "Light of the Bear" is an interesting translation, which may have roots going back 13,000 years and connected to the circumpolar constellation or Ursa Major, which would be very visible and very bright in the British Isles at this time of year, during the greatest darkness. [1]
Winter is upon us – in the northern hemisphere. Harvest is done (hopefully). Nature is shutting down to rest and rejuvenate. It’s a time when I look within to see what needs to go, what I need to let go.
This year is difficult for me as my mother is experiencing some health issues. Now I’m the youngest of six and we all have strong opinions. We don’t ever agree – or rarely. But then there’s mom. Mom is 86. She’s feisty, sassy, stubborn, and frail in some ways (though don’t call her that or you’ll get an earful).
This is without a doubt the month I find hardest to be positive about. Samhain with all its spooky joys is now behind us. The winter stretches ahead. The cold has its teeth in and will likely keep chewing for months to come. The ground becomes slippery and treacherous, the days short and dark. Everything is harder. And I’m one of the lucky ones; I have a home, I can afford to heat it and I can afford to eat.
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