Winter Solstice

An invitation to go within

The celestial pivot point of solstice is near. For a few days before and after the solstice, the sun appears to pause in the sky, marking the start of a new season. The word solstice comes from Latin sol “sun” and sistere “to stand still.” A poetic moment of transition when those of us in the Northern Hemisphere will experience the darkest day of the year. Afterward, light will return. We know this as the beginning of winter.

In the wild of our bodies, the peak of darkness is a potent time to go within. A time to locate the fire in the belly and ask: What ignites me? What am I truly hungry for? The quiet dark can help us recharge and locate our spark; our creative fire.

I’ve learned to embrace the quiet dark. We need dark, protected spaces to let the most tender parts of ourselves form. It is in fertile darkness that we plant new seeds and where life is conceived. Rest and retreat are just as necessary as the warmth and illumination of light.

Photo by Saa R on Unsplash

When I was living in New York City I often felt overwhelmed by incessant light and general overstimulation. Fortunately, I had a windowless bathroom where I could soak in the tub and block out city lights.

Taking a bath in the quiet dark was my way to recharge. It became my winter solstice ritual. I would make an herbal infusion of fresh pine needles, and as I filled the tub with water, I inhaled the forest. 

As I soaked in stillness and darkness, I let my inner noise settle. Then, I reflected and listened. Locating the fire in my belly, I asked: What am I truly hungry for? Once my deep hunger or intention became clear, I lit a candle and journaled.

I invite you to try some version of this, too.

In her gorgeous book Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times,

Katherine May

writes:

“Plants and animals don’t fight the winter; they don’t pretend it’s not happening and attempt to carry on living the same lives that they lived in the summer. They prepare. They adapt. They perform extraordinary acts of metamorphosis to get them through. Winter is a time of withdrawing from the world, maximising scant resources, carrying out acts of brutal efficiency and vanishing from sight; but that’s where the transformation occurs. Winter is not the death of the life cycle, but its crucible.”

Soon snow will blanket the earth; a comforter for land as she rests. A comforter that will provide life-giving moisture to soil while the warmth of the sun becomes stronger. Gradually, that warmth will melt the ground and bring us spring. When Earth awakens.