In the Northern Hemisphere, autumn brings forth winter, we fall away from the light and life of the Sun. Each day, we exist with less and less solar energy, and for many of us, we feel this loss of external fire as a real internal weakening. Whether it be through a depression of the immune system or a depression of the heart, our bodies know when the hands of our circadian clock go haywire. We are undergoing a solar depression.

It is not uncommon this time of year to feel an indescribable, yet ever so palpable sadness or grief. To name the grief can be difficult. For those who live amongst the four seasons, it can seem our soul has a quiet agreement with the hands of time to let some of our own leaves shrivel up and fall away.  Dying branches that produce very little, but we are often challenged to sever it off completely, afraid to loose the aesthetic of looking whole or complete. 

Saturday, Dec 21 at 4:21 am EST, our darkest eve of the year will reach maximum night, and from there our Sun will start his great return. The triumph of light over dark will proceed. What has been building up until then is the struggle within the battle. The Solstice reminds us of what we have been carrying around, waning limbs that weigh us down.  Limbs that further anchor us into an inescapable past, robbing us of crucial nutrients for upward growth. The Solstice is a point of inward reflection, a period that permits space to digest what it is we need to release to the underworld so we can live in the outerworld. We are admist Demeter’s quiet screams for the loss of her only daughter Persephone to the dark lord, Hades. We quietly scream with her. Yet even she brings back the glorious buds of springtime hope.

Celebrate the return of the Sun, the promise of the light, by severing off any dying limbs. Enter the new year, aiming for new growth, dynamic blooms, and fearless adventure. 

If you would like further reflection on the season of Solstice, you can connect with last year’s reflection, A Gradient of Light.