The Winter Solstice is (this Saturday) December 21st. The shortest day of the year. The longest night of the year. Midwinter. Here in the northern hemisphere, it’s the coldest, darkest time of year in terms of environment. We are forced indoors, and if we know what’s nourishing: we create an inner sanctuary in our home, with the other living beings that we are spending our time with that we love.
May we seize this opportunity to descend into the darkness of the year.
To get the most out of this season of hibernation and integration.
To let the darkness hold us.
Traditionally, we would gather around the hearth, the fire. A smaller version of the sun. Could be a reach, but this feels like the tread from which the “miniature” theme of the season is woven. Little kids, little dolls, little houses, little trinkets, and even, a little tree for the living room. During this season, sheltered inside, our whole world shrinks. Our focus becomes what is inside, what can be illuminated by our tiny suns (flames or bulbs.) This contraction inside and within, mirrors our experience of the sun condensed to only being visible ~30% of our day.
There is a lot of info about the Pagan traditions and origins, but I like to start the 12 Days of Christmas on the Solstice, which this year, will bring us to January 1st. During this portal of time, the dark-but-brighter-bit-by-bit days after the Solstice, the smallness and focus can create bigness: these 12 days as analogues for the 12 upcoming months. A lot of divination practices emerged during this period— our dreams get to be brighter and brighter and rise again, just like (you guessed it) the sun.
There are countless practices and rituals to explore, but my favorite one I learned of via the dear and delightful Danica Boyce— who, if you’re a fellow Euro-Pagan-ancestored one like me, I cannot recommend her work enough.
Winter Solstice Ritual:
-Using 12 different small pieces of paper, write 12 wishes for the upcoming year, one on each piece.
-Fold them up.
-Without looking, offer 1 piece of paper to the fire each night.
-On the final day, open the last wish: that one's up to you.
The other wishes, these greater powers outside of yourself: your vibrant ancestors, the land spirits, gods/goddesses/deities—they take care of the other 11.
I’ve done this practice a few times— a home for myself and a book advance have been the personal responsibility I’ve woken up to on January 1st 2023 and 2024. The home came rather quickly and miraculously in Sedona in 2023. Still working on this book advance, though there is a nearly-complete proposal that taunts me from my Google Drive.
It’s sweet and fun and simple and powerful— my favorite kind of ritual.
So, under the cover of the darkness of the year: be bold enough to grant your own wishes.
Other projects and commitments have been keeping me plenty busy this year, but I still have a few spots a month open for Ancestral Lineage Healing, Mediumship Readings, and Good Grief: Guided Sessions. Book’em here.