The clouds are low, the air is somehow wet and crisp, and we pull the robes tighter to fend off the morning chill. Winter is coming, pinpointed by the stressful planning of celebrations and incoming oil bills.
“Flights are cheap, want to go to Tenerife?” My husband announces, his go to line at the slightest drop in temperature, the rate ever increasing as we near Christmas.
Here we go again, I think; our annual ‘what will we do for Christmas’ debate where I prefer to stay home as cozy as a pot-bellied pig by the fire, and he wants to travel, like a cat chasing the sun. What’s really happening is a response to what we’re all experiencing; a tilting towards the season changing and another year ending, marked by the winter solstice and ceremonial processions.
Winter Solstice Westport by Dominik Janczak
Each year at the studio, we celebrate with our Winter Solstice Celebration, or Yule, on December 21st. We share stories of ancient traditions and myths, make household charms, do a bit of yoga, and end with cakes & wine. It’s our way of both honoring & playfully nodding to the old beliefs, while reconnecting to each other and the land. It’s our cherished act of defiance against the darkness; a way to create warmth, community and merriment when it's easiest to feel cold and alone… something I personally struggle with at this time of year.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m surrounded by love. My husband, his family, our friends and you, our students truly give me a sense of belonging. But as the sun sets earlier and the lights go up the Christmas tree, my heart is heavy for the biological family I no longer have. Not that they were lost to tragedy, but due to their substance use & emotionally abusive ways I bore witness to as a child. All I have left of that time are some damaged photos and a difficult story. I suspect many of us have a similar struggle during these times, when family tidings are supposed to be cherished.
However, where there is absence of familial ties and traditions, there is also fertile ground to plant new seeds and nurture new growth. While it took many years of sitting in emotional darkness to realise I could simply light a candle, and it took even longer to start feeling its warmth; but over time, with each new lighting of the Solstice altar candles, a deeper sense of love and belonging grows within. Now it’s become a yearly tradition to cook for my chosen family, share in seasonal festivities with the community, and finally feel a sense of family.
In ancient times, candles & bonfires were lit during this time as a way of helping the Sun’s return to earth, to bring back the warmth. The Winter Solstice is about honoring the darkest night’s passing, making way for the light of the new year. And the gift I’ve been given each year from the absence of my original family, is that light is an act of creation, and darkness a place of for it to arrive. A painful gift to learn, but one that has brought more love than I could ever imagine as I ceremonially argue with my in-laws about how many types of potatoes are going on the Christmas dinner menu, or if there will be enough room for all the Carlsberg and wine in the fridge.
Christmas Dinner with the in-laws, out-laws and leftover potatoes! 😂
Now, whether it’s the annual ritual of gentle persuasion to escape to warmer climates for Christmas, or navigating the gift-giving anxiety gauntlet from the in-laws, I’m realising these are the family traditions I’ve become part of. And when I’m lighting candles and setting intentions for our Yule workshop, I feel the community gathering, each of us sharing our own light. I know I’m not the only one who feels the darkness at this time of year, but together we choose to create something bright within it.
I hope to see some of you, at our Winter Solstice Event on December 21st to welcome the light back together. More info is available here.
Ceremonially,
Derrick