I don’t need seasons. Really, I don’t. If it were up to me, I would wake up every day to 85 degree non-humid sunny weather. Just drop me in the foothills of southern California. Many of you know that I grew up in Michigan. I’ve experienced season – Fall was full of apple picking, falling leaves, hay rides and all the things. As a child, there are few things more fun that playing in the snow – snowball fights, making snow people, snow sculpture competitions (it’s a thing) and careening down the hill in any kind of makeshift sled.
But as an adult, I’m over all of it. I want sunshine and warmth. Every day.
After over a decade in southern California, I am back in the land of seasons. My SoCal-kid is here for all of it – rain, apple picking, catching snow on her tongue as it falls from the sky. And I delight in her joy. I click on my happy lamp and pretend it’s the morning sun.
But here we are. The days have become short; the nights are oh so long. And I’m trying to live in the present.
So I decided to celebrate the winter solstice. I love the witchy-ness of it (I tell my kid that witches are just powerful women who can’t be controlled) and I deeply value all religious traditions – including pagan ones for whom the solstice is a holy day. But mainly, it’s my way of: if you can’t beat it, join it.
So we embrace the darkness, light candles throughout the house, eat solstice foods (it’s a thing according to the Googles) and honor what is beautiful about winter, about darkness and things that grow underground. I invite a couple friends and we reflect on where we have come since the last solstice, with thanks to see another one.
And of course, I wrote my own litany (because I couldn’t find one I liked although Jan Richardson has some beautiful poetry for this). I’m sharing it here in case any of you want to get down with the darkness:
We celebrate darkness for its beauty
In a world that teaches that darkness is cold
That blackness is bad, and
That night must be feared; instead
We embrace the beauty of blackness
The darkness of the womb
The rest of the night
Many blessings this solstice.
Dr. Monica
