Winter Solstice \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Moon of the Winter Solstice<\/p>\n
It’s here. \u00a0It’s here. \u00a0It’s finally here. \u00a0The longest night. \u00a0The sun has begun to set and the darkness will be with us for 15 hours and 14 minutes. \u00a0Had we been a resident of the British Isles or somewhere in Scandinavia, it would have been even longer. (and is, today.) \u00a0It’s no surprise then, that in the old religions of these countries that the Winter Solstice took on an ominous portent.<\/p>\n
(source<\/a>)<\/p>\n Think about it. \u00a0The last crop had come in at least two months ago, probably longer. \u00a0There was no prospect of a growing season even starting until the next April or early May. \u00a0And the nights had begun to grow longer and longer. \u00a0As the cold grew more intense and the daylight diminished, it could seem possible that never again would the ground be warm, the plants green. \u00a0You and your children might starve.<\/p>\n Yes, so far the sun had always returned but what would happen if the gods who controlled its coming and going no longer desired its return? \u00a0The gods lived in their own ways and to their own designs. \u00a0It could easily happen that we humans were not included.<\/p>\n So for some the Winter Solstice became a season of dread, followed by an increasing sense of relief as the sun escaped whatever was holding it back and began to ascend once again for a longer time each day. \u00a0Thank the gods.<\/p>\n You know the stories about holidays of light, those holidays that both reassure and, through principles of sympathetic magic, lure the sun back from its melancholy.<\/p>\n There is, however, another way to come to this long night. \u00a0This way takes the long night as good as the longest days of the Summer Solstice. \u00a0It celebrates the darkness, that fecund place where babies grow, bulbs germinate and creativity unfolds.<\/p>\n It sees this night as different from all other nights in that we set it aside as a holynight, a night that stands in for all other nights, for all those moments of darkness when richness and life and new beginnings collect, gather strength.<\/p>\n Yes, of course, we need the light. \u00a0The growing season. \u00a0The warmth. \u00a0And that time has it holyday, the Summer Solstice. \u00a0A celebration of light and fire and the profusion of plant life.<\/p>\n It may be harder to celebrate the dark. \u00a0It frightens us sometimes, reminds us of the coming darkness in which the sun will never again rise. \u00a0And of those for whom such time has already come. \u00a0There is no shame in this fear; it is universal.<\/p>\n But note this. \u00a0It especially cannot be assuaged by the message of Sol Invictus, the all conquering sun. \u00a0The darkness is coming, for each and every one of us. \u00a0Far more powerful then to embrace the darkness, not as over against life and the human spirit, but as friend, as necessary companion.<\/p>\n This is the darkness I celebrate tonight, the longest darkness of year.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Winter Solstice \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Moon of the Winter Solstice It’s here. \u00a0It’s here. \u00a0It’s finally here. \u00a0The longest night. \u00a0The sun has begun to set and the darkness … Continue reading Winter Solstice, 2012<\/span>