CONNECTING WITH WINTER
& CELEBRATING WINTER SOLSTICE (Dec. 20-21)

Frost on the trees, 2012.

Winter sunrise, 2009.

The cats are warm in front of the woodstove.

Deep snows from the 2008 snow storm.

An altar celebrating Winter.

Winter Solstice sunrise, 2012.

Connecting with Winter:
Hibernation, Dreaming, Rejuvenation

Now is the time for no thing.  
We are invited to enter this mystery. Frost is the teacher that shows us we would not survive a day without a home and heat.  And our souls, too, know something our outer selves do not register most of the time:  in Winter we have the chance to enter a clear, empty space.  Whenever something ends, something else has begun.
Our souls can dive into the biting cold, into darkness,
into bare being. The unknown is there.
There is no calender, no time. No self-definition.
Winter is a womb in which we grow.

- Gunilla Norris, 
from A Mystic Garden:  Working with Soil, Attending to Soul

Theresa's Thoughts:

I rejoice when Winter finally sends us snow to cover Fall’s brown and dreary landscape.  I enjoy observing the different types of snow.  Some storms dump heavy, wet flakes that take effort to shovel.  Others drop fluffy flakes that land so gently you can see their individual shapes if you look closely enough.  On a bright day when yesterday’s snow is blowing around, the sun reflects brilliant sparkles in the air.  Frost often outlines each tree branch in a glistening web.

While the land sleeps, the animals hibernate, and the plants lie dormant underground, I try to follow their examples.  I sleep longer hours and take afternoon naps.  I schedule a long vacation from work and try to remember how to relax.  I read a lot.  I daydream more. 

Winter is not the best time for doing, it’s better for taking stock and planning for next year.  I focus inward, and try to give myself what I need so that I can be rejuvenated and ready for a busy Spring.  I sit in front of the woodstove, gazing into the flames, and listen to myself. 

I connect with the cold.  I keep the thermostat at 58 degrees. If I don’t experience Winter’s cold, I realize I won’t appreciate Summer’s warmth. The animals grow more fur, and I live in long underwear, wool socks, and layers of clothes. Like mammals in their underground burrows, I curl up under wool blankets, which I hated as a child, but which now seem to keep me magically warm no matter what the temperature.

I look forward to Winter storms and unexpected days off work.  The feeling of safety when I hunker down at home, and the feeling of freedom when I can’t go anywhere and nothing is expected of me, is exhilarating.  It is a gift from Mother Nature that lets us slow down.

I like to shovel.  It lets me be outside, but still warm.  It’s good exercise. I clear paths all around our house that help the wild animals get through the snow.  I make homemade suet for the woodpeckers. I put bird seed out every morning. On weekends, I count the birds that visit for Cornell University’s Project Feederwatch. During a storm, I periodically shovel around the bird feeders to help the birds reach their buried food. I heat the pond so animals have another source of water.

I tend the fire. When I light it on cold mornings, just seeing the first flames makes me warmer. Our woodstove only heats one room well, but it makes that room the heart of our house during Winter. The fire is always there creating a warm retreat, symbolizing the Sun that will return when the time is right.

Winter is a slower, more inward time, rejuvenating us for Spring’s projects.

Celebrating Winter Solstice

We celebrate the Winter Solstice (on Dec. 20th or 21st). It is the longest night of the year, and the shortest day, encompassing both the darkness of Winter and the promise of the returning light of the Sun. After Winter Solstice, the days start to become longer.  

On Solstice Eve, we have a feast before sunset (which means eating around 3:00 in the afternoon, Central Time).  We do not turn on any lights in the house, so we can really notice the fading light as the Sun sets. We sleep on a pallet in the library, in front of our wood stove, which we try to keep burning all night following the Yule log tradition. We meditate in the dark, listening to a tape of a beating heart. We wait with all of life in the womb of Mother Earth to be reborn with the Solstice Sun. There are almost 14 hours of darkness. When I awake during the night to feed the fire, I realize with contentment that I still have a long time left to sleep.  

We get up before first light, around 6 am, and prepare to greet the new born Sun as He awakens. We light many candles on the shelves that line two of the library’s walls, and sit in our bay window to watch the sunrise, which in our yard occurs around 7:30 am. We greet the rising Sun with drumming or other musical instruments. If it’s too overcast to see the Sun, we watch the light return to the day.  Sometimes we go through the house ringing bells, to move around the stagnant energy and help bless the rooms with the new sunlight.  Sometimes we play a game running around turning on every light, competing with each other to see who can remember the most obscure ones, like the oven light, and who can get to them first.  We cook a big breakfast on the woodstove, and later in the day might watch one of our favorite Winter movies.

Praise to the Sun, whose life sparks all life.
- Carolyn McVickar Edwards

Solstice Celebration 2015:

On Solstice eve we feasted and waited for the dark to descend. We would go all night without any light but the fire, the better to connect with the longest night (around 14 hours of darkness).

We awoke before dawn on Solstice Day, after having slept in front of the fire. We lit candles on the library shelves around the room, to greet and encourage the returning Sun.

The candles reflected in our bay window, where we sat to watch the Sun return. 

It was overcast, so we wouldn't see the sunrise, but would watch the day lighten.

When we heard the cawing of the crow, and saw the first bird at our bird feeders (a downy woodpecker), we considered it dawn.

Snow Goddess (art by Theresa)

Father Winter

Our backyard in Winter, 2012.

Winter Reading:

Winter Solstice, by Rosamunde Pilcher.  
One of my favorite novels that I reread almost every December. It reminds me that even if you think you've lost most of the people who are dear to you, you can still find family in the most unexpected places, even during the holiday season.

The Faithful Gardener:  A Wise Tale About that Which Can Never Die, by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, PhD.  This whole book is wonderful, but I particularly like the sub-story that starts on p. 40, "That Which Can Never Die," about a fir tree that wants to be chosen as a Christmas tree.  It is good reading in front of the fire on Solstice evening.

The Winter Solstice:  The Sacred Traditions of Christmas
by John Matthews.  A lovely book with inspirational photos and ideas for celebrating the Solstice.

The Snowflake:  Winter's Secret Beauty
Text by Kenneth Libbrecht & Photography by Patricia Rasmussen. An amazing book full of close up photographs showing the designs of actual snowflakes.

Winter World:  the Ingenuity of Animal Survival 
by Bernd Heinrich.  This book about how animals survive Winter is on my to read list.

The Return of the Light:  Twelve Tales from Around the World for the Winter Solstice  by Carolyn McVickar Edwards.  I just bought this, so can't say much about it yet, but the introduction captured my attention by describing the first city to be lit by street lights.

Winter Solstice Music:

December  by George Winston.  Solo piano music.  Windham Hill Records 1982.

Celtic Christmas:  A Windham Hill Sampler.  A program of traditional carols and newly composed pieces inspired by the spirit and beauty of the holiday season, 1995.

Winter Movies:

These are the traditional movies that we often include in our holiday celebrations. You probably already know them. Watching them makes us happy.  

Love Actually- The love lives- happy and sad- of several people at Christmas time, showing that love, actually, is all around.  It can be a little hard to follow the first time because it has so many story lines, but it definitely grows on you. I also love the soundtrack from this movie.

It's a Wonderful Life- Frank Capra's black and white classic about learning how much one person's life can mean to others.

The Family Man- Nicholas Cage is a wealthy Wall Street Trader who tries to helps a disguised angel at Christmas time and is turned into an average family man for his troubles.

Winter Poetry:

Like a ruby bright
set in February snow
regal cardinal.

- Mary Ann Rasmussen