Winter Solstice

I am all about the pause. And Winter Solstice is the pausing point. Everything is hushed and in one long night, the earth begins to tilt, ever so gently, toward the light.

On December 22, the day of Winter Solstice, I participated in an invitation from my good friend, Jamie Terry, called Wintering Well. She asked us what kind of winter we were in: Earth Winter (the season), Body Winter (as a woman the bleed phase, Menopause, illness or injury), Soul Winter (grief, loss, transition) or Spiritual Winter (when God feels far away or when we feel disconnected). She invited us into the pause.

She reminded us that day of the holy text that speaks of the seed that must fall into the ground and die (or lie dormant) in order for it to bloom afresh with abundant new life in the spring. It is a dying. Transformation can not come without a death. God brought me back to this seed in my morning meditation today: a letting go of all that has grown stale.

It would seem that the seed would be safest if it stayed tucked away in the farmer’s shed, hidden deep in the warmth of the sack. But the reality is that the seed must be pulled out of the hidden places to die in the cold soil of the earth before it can fulfill it’s purpose. And so Jamie asked, “What does it look like to enter into the deep discomfort of winter? What does it look like to not strive?” Once again, she invited us into the pause; a shift of mindset, of expectation. She gave us the invitation to find comfort in the darkness.

As the Earth shifts in another direction, what does it look like for you to take one small action to tilt toward the light? How can you embrace the deep discomfort of winter and let go of one thing that is holding you back from living more fully in your one precious life?

“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.” ~Victor Hugo