We are arriving at the darkest time and longest nights of the year. 

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The winter solstice is likely one of the longest annually celebrated days of all. While this day marks the longest night of the year, the longest time of darkness, it is a beacon of hope as the sunrise promises more light now to come. 

“Solstice” translates from the Latin as “the sun stands still”. This is the day where we reach the furthest edge. We’ve been in this liminal time of darkness building and building, but now we have reached the edge of it and all stands still. 
We have space here to take a breath and hold onto this moment of stillness. 
Then, we are ready to begin anew. The light is reborn. The sun is reborn, as are we.

Pre-christianity, really as long as humans have been farming and tracking the sun, this day has been pivotal. Humans have long held a great preoccupation with the sun of course, it being the most vital life force. This, the longest night of the year, was a time to be celebrated as it ushered in the return of more light. This point of the year has long been celebrated as “the birth of the Sun”, the birth of hope. (Making it the perfect sabbat to correlate with the birth of Christ as Christianity established its own liturgical calendar).

While we don’t know the exact rituals performed throughout human history to mark this moment of the year, there are many ancient sites throughout the world, many dating back 5,000 years or more, that track this moment of the sun standing still - to name some: Stonehenge, the Temple of the Sun at Macchu Picchu, Newgrange, Knowth, Karnak, Goseck Circle, Stoney Littleton, and Maeshowe. (Well worth a google to see how they all work and track the sun). While we don’t know exactly how people celebrated at those times, the efforts put into building these sites to track and marking this day signify the deep importance this moment of the year held for the people. The sun would align just right and light up these sites on this day, likely to alert the people that the boundary had been reached, the darkness would not continue to creep in further, the Sun was now on its way back. We do know that for thousands of years this would then incite days of celebration, gathering, and feasting to honor the return of the sun. 

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As with most of our sabbats though, these markers of the cycles of energy ask us to hold a few things simultaneously. When we follow the seasonality of the year, we see the cycles of the earth, of nature, are also the cycles of our bodies and souls. While we do want to celebrate this return of light, we must also look to the earth to see what it is offering for us to emulate. We see the earth at this time is so quiet. Crisp air, frost coated tree limbs and leaves scattered about, or maybe a blanket of snow. Muted colors. Clear skies and bright stars during these long nights. The trees and shrubs rest bare in their stripped form, all of their energy moving below the surface as they spread their roots. Animals burrow in or hibernate. All is still and quiet. 

At these moments at the fringes of light and dark, we are asked to hold space. To stand in this stillness with the sun and take a breath. Here, in Midwinter, we are asked to accept that we are most vulnerable when we face the darkness. We are invited to sit in that darkness and explore the lessons that come with the night.

And as we take that breath, as we honor the sacred pause, we can then welcome in a change of course. We can see on the other side that this is the light’s rebirth, as well as our own. We are invited to realign ourselves so that we may find our way forward, slowly and consistently in the coming season, just as the sun will.