Winter Solstice — celebrating death
Yesterday was the shortest day of the year, which means it was the longest night too. And what a dark night.
2020 has been for me, and I’m sure for many, a year of darkness. In my experience, it’s been a year of spending time alone, even if it’s something I abhor. But it’s what I needed, so I did it.
So when December 21st came around, I knew I had to celebrate it. The winter solstice this year felt like Christmas for me.
I know this is quite an uncommon statement. All around me, I heard the opposite: many were happy to jump into a new cycle, the age of Aquarius, new year, and so on. In other words, many of us are impatiently making their way to a new year and a new time. It is understandable.
In my contradictory spirit (I am a Moon and Rising Aquarius after all, I take great pleasure in swimming against the main stream ;) ), and because it is what felt right, I dedicated my ritual yesterday to the dark night. In other words, I stayed in the dark of the night while many rushed into the coming light.
Here’s the thing: yes, it is a fact that starting from today, 22nd December, days are starting to get longer. So, technically, the longest night is behind us. But dark nights are still here as we gain only a minute of light every day. At this rate, and as we all know, we still have a few weeks of darkness before spring vibes hit us.
On the metaphorical level, this symbolises the importance of honouring the slow rhythm of transitions. To not rush. To dare to stay in the dark, cold and empty silence before the next thing comes around — be it spring, 2021 or the age of Aquarius.
Yesterday, I celebrated the long, dark night, the physical one and the one inside me — the dark night of the soul. We lit up a fire and we offered to it parts of us that died in this cycle, or that are to die before the light comes back to us. Decluttering before the new cycle comes in. Shedding layers of skin, burning old sleeves before we are offered the next one.
Yesterday was my Christmas. I celebrated death, my own. I celebrated the past 6 months where I witnessed the death of parts of me that no longer make sense. Outdated identity, outdated beliefs, outdated patterns. By doing so, and because everything is positive and negative at the same time, duality but not separateness, I was also celebrating what’s to come — the upgrade, the next version of me.
I don’t know how the new me looks like. I get glimpses here and there, but I don’t have the total picture yet. And that’s what transitions are about: to sit patiently and wait for the next cycle to start, whenever it is ready for us. To surrender and trust the process.
Happy Solstice, happy winter. May the dark night support your journey to the light within.
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