In the wilderness 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, locate our spark and our creative fire. We need dark, protected spaces to let the most tender parts of ourselves form and take root. Rest and retreat are just as necessary as the warmth and illumination of light.
The celestial pivot point of solstice is upon us. The word solstice comes from Latin sol “sun” and sistere “to stand still.” For a few days before and after the solstice, the sun appears to pause in the sky, marking the start of a new season. Those of us in the Northern Hemisphere will experience the peak of darkness tomorrow. The beginning of winter.
I’ve learned to embrace the quiet dark. It is in fertile darkness that we plant new seeds and where life is conceived. Too much light can create burn out, obscure stars and the spark of gestation.
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 and became my winter solstice ritual. On the solstice, I made an herbal infusion of fresh Pine needles, and as I filled the tub with water I inhaled the forest.
Soaking in stillness and darkness, I let my inner noise settle. Then I reflected and listened. Once an 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,
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 the land as she rests. One that will provide life-giving moisture to the soil as the sun becomes stronger in spring and the ground awakens.
Amazing imagery and wonderful imagery that remind us of the importance of winter and honoring this quiet time of darkness. I love the phrase "fertile darkness" and when you say "Soon snow will blanket the earth; a comforter for the land as she rests." -- so much here in how you say this that say a lot about this important time in a beautiful way.
I can definitely relate to my years spent in cities feeling overstimulated by light and noise. Now that I live out in the country I find myself embracing this dark time of year and finding ways to bring my own light to it all. Bright solstice to you 🕯️