Winter Solstice
Winter solstice is here, bringing the longest darkest night and the shortest day, the deepest and darkest part of the year.
A fertile void, inviting a depth of descent, a blackness, a gateway into the realm of knowing oneself that much more intimately.
As we meet this darkest moment in the year, we know that this too will pass, that the feeling realm of the underworld isn’t the only place we are meant to dwell.
Just as grief, sadness, joy, vulnerability, hope, love and happiness all shift and transmute into something else, especially if we give them room to be felt and conversed with kindly. Each feeling, if seen through, has a point where it transmutes into another, they are shape shifters these feelings, and this is something we can often forget, especially when we have been distracted away from our feelings when growing up, or made to feel they must be shut down. It makes us scared of them, scared of their voice, their story and most of all, scared of the reaction they ignite inside ourselves. But the reaction, and the feeling, are both, us, and rather than haunt us, they are meant to teach us. Teach us where we need love, where we need strengthening and how life touches us.
Solstice reminds us, that even in the darkest time of the year, that around the corner, the light is waiting to welcome us from the descent.
The solstice, pours us into the darkening, while also whispering of coming light. It reminds us that a forest does just eat from the fertile and thrumming soil, but also, it eats from the sun.
Both are needed in the journey of life, both are needed for wild to thrive. Just as we grow well, when attending to both our inner and outer worlds.
These times were held to not only celebrate the transformative power of the wild, both within and without, bringing hope and cheer to our hearts.
The sun will, soon be slowly calling all the medicine held in the earth up to the sky in tendrils of green, in unfurling wildness. It will call to us too, calling our spirit and energy up and outward too. It will be like a balm to our spirit.
But it is all too easy, especially in this modern culture of bright electric lights, positive vibes only and reaching for white light and otherworldly sky gods, to forget, and push away the dark until we forget its beauty, necessity and sacredness.
And at this time, I like to take a moment, to thank those ones who work so well in the rich fertile places. The mycelium, the insects, the worms, the fungi, the death, the clay, loam and humus, before I welcome in the light, so I may always remember it’s necessity and strength.
For if we asked the seed, of what they know of that darkness, they will show you a story of growth and transformation, of care and motherly holding.
Ask the roots of the magic they know of deep within the black, and they will tell you a mineral rich story of nourishment, strength, community and grounding.
Ask the mycelium of what they know of the darkness, and they will show you a story of connection and reciprocity.
Ask the worm what they feel in that blackness, and they will tell you about alchemy, of life that springs from death.
And if you listen to your heart, your body, your knowing, asking your centre what you know of the darkness within, you may also realise and understand the reciprocity, the connection, the nourishment, the transformation, the growth and the alchemy held in flesh, bone, blood, heart and feeling. For they are there, held within, invisible, powerful and beautiful.
On this winter solstice, may you honour the beauty and rich magic held in your soul. As well as the darkness of night, the darkness of winter and the blackness of soil and all those who work quietly to transform the dead into life.
And may you also celebrate the light that springs from your heart, the sky and the medicine the land is full of. May you remember that for a forest to be strong, for a soul to be strong, it must eat from both.