The winter solstice marks the shortest day and longest night of the year. It is at this point in the earth’s journey around the sun that our northern hemisphere leans furthest away from the light and the sun is lowest. This year the solstice occurs on Friday December 21st, and I personally feel drawn to reflect on this day, as I can’t help but marvel in the symbolism of it. The word “solstice,” in Latin, means “sun standing still”, and in some disciplines of yoga, the sun symbolizes the soul. So in a sense, we could say the soul stands still on the solstice.
The transition into winter and these darkest days gets me thinking about nature. Nature seems to remember what we humans have forgotten… That it is a natural process to shift into stillness and inactivity when the light is low and days are cold. It is in this rest of the winter season that all life’s energy recycles. The trees and plants retreat inwards to dormancy, animals rest and hibernate, and ponds freeze and suspend in time. All this is necessary for the rebirth of life and action in the spring. It gets me wondering about the consequences of forging through the season without this rest, as we humans seem to do. I wonder if we should take more notice of this phase in nature and let it be a cue from which we also take a break from the constant doing and accomplishing. It may be, that by taking the time to rest and reflect, we gather the energy to regenerate and renew.
Everything in the universe has cycles; when a star dies it produces the material for new stars. When a plant is eaten, the energy it stored from the sun is transferred to the new body. This life and death cycle exists everywhere around and within us. Every action, emotion, cell in our body, and breath we take alternates from coming to going; existing and then not. Without this shift into void and nothingness, where endings reside, the cycle of energy cannot continue. The Winter solstice is a powerful reminder that the universe needs both light and darkness to sustain. It is out of the darkness that flowers eventually emerge, life is born, and ideas are formed and nurtured.
This year, in the days around the solstice, I plan to use it as a time of inner reflection; to look back on my year and acknowledge what I have completed and the insights and understandings I have gained. In this pause from activity, I will take time to grieve my losses and celebrate my triumphs, and contemplate what it is I need new, and what it is I need to let go of. I figure there is so much richness and integration that can be received in this transition phase if we take the time to become still with ourselves and listen. Perhaps you’ll join me in this celebration of night as a time to rest your soul and re-fuel your inner light.