Light and Darkness
On the Solstice and Multiple Truths
Yesterday was the winter solstice, the day of longest darkness. Last year around this time, I wrote about how I’d softened towards winter. In the past few years, this particular day has started to feel like the ideal day to rest, to reset, to take stock. It feels, dare I say as someone who doesn’t use this word at all, holy. There’s the promise of the return of the light, for sure, but also the surrender of being in coziness, in uncertainty, in darkness.
This time of year, culturally, however, is…not that. It’s overscheduled and full of tasks (finish the semester, buy the things, bake the things, schedule the things - I had not one but two parties yesterday). Since I come into the solstice every year exhausted from the semester (best attempts at balance notwithstanding), this business feels hard as well. Which is why knowing that I am physically, chemically, seasonally predisposed to slowing and resting has helped my levels of tired feel more manageable, or at least more explicable.
Multiple social engagements, de-tornadoing my house and car from the end of the semester, and two hours in the car getting between these tasks are not necessarily how I wanted to spend my solstice. I’d have loved to have a fire and not talk to anyone for 24 hours. But community is important, just as noticing and celebrating the transitions of the earth is important, and the surrender energy of this season also helped me eventually accept and find a sense of gratitude for everything I did yesterday.
I also needed the reminder, from a yin teacher I’ve just started working with (I’m doing my yin certification next year), that, while the solstice is a powerful day, it is, after all, just the beginning of winter. It’s the shortest day, the return of the light, but also the beginning of this season of quiet, of rest, of uncertainty, of incubation. We’ve got three months of winter ahead of us. There’s time for reflection. There’s space for quiet.
If you’d like to join me for a little bit more of that tonight, I’d love to see you at my winter solstice workshop, one of my favorite classes I taught last year. There’ll be reflection and journaling time, gentle, supportive movement, and a closing meditation. Comfiest clothes, a mug of something warm, all the props, and a candle will be lovely additions. Click on the calendar below to sign up.
In the meantime, here’s a winter solstice playlist (because it doesn’t have to be just that one day!).
