Winter Solstice: Welcoming the Darkness
Photo by David Tomaseti on Unsplash
Every year as the holidays come to a close, I feel a part of myself start to brace for winter. The quiet. The cold. The lack of color. The dim sunlight. As someone who gains a lot of her self care and play time from being outside, I have never really taken to winter activities. I know I’m not alone in this. People always tell me, “To survive a Maine winter, you need to get out there in the snow.” And every year, I shake in my boots and decide “no thanks” and go back inside. From then on out, I put my head down and do my best to wait for spring. This year, I am hoping to do things a bit differently. Rather than bracing against the cycles of seasons, I am going to lean into them and see what I find. What if we move into the seasons and see what gifts and offerings they hold for us?
When the Sun Stands Still
“The seeds of our future, resting in the rich earth, need this period of stillness, as do we.”
With winter solstice recently passing and a new project to work on, I dove into some research on seasons and cycles. Winter is for contemplation, sleep, planting seeds of intention, and quiet. And then it happened. I panicked. WE’VE ALREADY BEEN DOING THAT, I told myself. 2020 may be in the past now, but the COVID-19 pandemic is still here. After nearly a year of staying home as much as possible to maintain social distancing, the reality of a socially distanced winter season seems daunting to me. So, what gifts can this winter season possibly hold? Let’s dive into it. The translation for the latin word Solstice is ‘sun stands still.’ It speaks to two points in the year when the earth’s tilt is closest to the sun or furthest away. And for these two times of year, it appears that the sun stands still. Winter Solstice delineates the longest and darkest night of the year. It also beckons the return of the sun and longer and brighter days.
What is it like to be present with darkness? To be in the stillness? To notice the richness of silence? For so many of us, these qualities are not comfortable. One way to explore this is through a simple breath practice called square breath. If you’re not familiar with the technique, you can find a guided meditation here. As you practice the steady inhale for a count of four, hold the breath for a count of four, exhale for a count of four, and then hold for a count of four… which hold feels more or less comfortable to you? These holds are an opportunity to be present in stillness. And one is likely to be more challenging than the other. Can you soften into it? Gently explore the quality of the hold and notice that internal resistance come up. How does discomfort manifest in the body?
Glimmers of Light
“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.”
This concept of discomfort seemed like the perfect opportunity to now explore my own resistance to winter. Where I am in Maine, we are at the beginning of winter where remnants of an early snow storm still stand. On a recent hike, the trail was mostly clear except for where the trees were so thick that not much sunlight could reach it. And at those points, I found myself stumbling and sliding over the icy snow. Exasperated and cold, I took a moment to be still. And as I breathed in that cold crisp air, I looked up and watched the most beautiful cloud of powdered snow release from a branch. As the wind caught the snow, it glistened and glittered in the sunlight until it disappeared.
Isn’t it strange how the darkness gives us an opportunity to really appreciate the light? First, we really need to hold time and space for the dark. Another way to explore this is through a simple candle meditation. You can find a guided candle gazing meditation here. Sitting about 2 feet away from the candle, you may start the meditation in total darkness or simply with eyes closed and just notice your breath. When it feels right, light a candle and allow yourself to gaze at the flicker of light. If you can, try to hold both darkness and the light in your scope of vision. This may require taking a soft or fuzzy gaze rather than focusing in on details. Notice how the light plays with the darkness. This light is always within us even as we go through the darkest emotional winters. An archetype that I have been working with through this challenging year is the Hermit card in tarot. When you feel most lost or alone, light a lantern and walk yourself home. It’s not about resisting or pushing away the darkness, but being patient with yourself and rediscovering that this light is already there for you.
Walking Ourselves Home
After a year like 2020, you may notice that being with yourself in the silence means that your pain or grief gets really loud. So loud that it’s overwhelming. Tara Brach’s RAIN meditation is a beautiful practice of recognizing the emotion, allowing, investigating, and nurturing it. Remember that just as the light of the summer does not last, neither does the dark of the winter. And, neither does this feeling. So, can you light the candle and walk yourself home through it? What kind of courage, strength, and resilience does it take to do so? Maybe that is the gift of winter. More to come next month...