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As this year ends I have been learning about the time referred to as "time out of time" that exists between the winter solstice or yule and the day we celebrate as New Year's Eve. These days that have felt like a state of limbo for me in the past, are in actuality rooted in ancient belief's as being magical, powerful, spiritually potent days of floating between this realm and the higher realms.

At long last, we’ve come to the valley of the year: the longest night, the middle of winter, and the apex of darkness. But as they so often say “it’s often darkest before the light” and cultures around the world have long celebrated midwinter with merry revelry, well aware that the Sun will soon return.

In our annual megapost for Yuletide, we’ve gathered as many stories as we could find about winter, seasonal merriment, and gift-giving for the holiday season. Many of the linked posts are from our own PaganSquare, but you’ll find plenty more if you feel inclined to look. We hope you and enjoy and wish you a very Merry Yule (and a Happy New Year’s)!

-Aryós Héngwis

I have had more elegant Yules than this, when there were more decorations up: more evergreen swag, a larger altar covered in small candles and mistletoe, a Yule log burning in a hearth. There have been years when I marked the Solstice with Yule feasts, parties, festivals, days and nights full of reveling, gluttony and socializing.

Across town, across my networks of family and friends, tonight, this whole week really, is full of these things. There are vigils around sacred fires, out on the prairie, at the edge of forests. There are hearths alight with sacred flames, and altars set up in warm homes and under chilly starlight. Tables loaded with venison, or pork, roasted root veggies mashed in butter. I think about my beloveds, far and wide, and send them love, as they vigil the night through, or call upon the Old God in his passing, or libate the Divine Mother. So many magickal, magickal things happening.

When I was studying in Jerusalem, my room wasn't much bigger than the bed itself. There simply wasn't space for an altar, but I felt lost without one.

Fortunately, at one of the museums I found a postcard of a Phoenician goddess figurine. I tucked it into the corner of the mirror on the wall, and voilà: instant altar. One 3 by 5 inch postcard was all it took.

Later I found a copy of the same pregnant goddess in an antiquities shop down by the King David Hotel. (Mass-produced and hence affordable to the ancients, they remain so today, even for those of us on student budgets.) How many people come to Jerusalem to buy idols? the shopkeeper joked as he wrapped her up.

She sits now underneath the Yule tree, pensive, her hand on her great belly. Soon.

Me: How are you?

Ms. K: Oh, you know.  Just had a good uglycry after finding my last photo of my grandmother.  Good times.  How are you?

I always look forward to Yule as a celebration of both metaphoric and literal “light” returning to my world. In Downeast Maine, it has been dark by 4PM for a while now. And when I say dark, I mean in-the-country-dark. As a recent import said, “I’ve never seen dark like this! It’s like someone put a sack over my head!” As far as I know, no one has. So the lengthening of the days really means something here.