In astronomical terms, the Winter Solstice is the single moment when the sun reaches its southernmost point in the sky (or its northernmost point if you are in the southern hemisphere). Solstice means ‘sun stands still’, and for three days at this time the sun appears to rise and set in the same southeasterly position on the horizon, before beginning its gradual incline north once more. It’s a spiritual event as much as an astronomical one, heralding the rebirth of the year, as the day on which the Winter Solstice occurs is the shortest of the year, and the night the longest. From now on the sun will gradually arc higher and higher in the sky until it comes to another standstill at the Summer Solstice, on the longest day, when it rises in the northeast. In the southern hemisphere these same solar arcs produce the reverse effect, creating the Summer Solstice in the south, when the north experiences winter, and vice versa. In the northern hemisphere, the Winter Solstice takes place on a day between 20–23 December; in the southern hemisphere it falls between 20–23 June.
Key Themes
Solstice
the still, pivotal point in the wheel
Celebrating and honouring
letting go
sacrifice
transcendence
grace
forgiveness
peace
rest and reflection
giving
rebirth
renewal
silence
the child within
As the nights grow longer and all of nature seems to sleep, the rebirth of the sun draws near. The Winter Solstice, in the northern hemisphere at least, is a time of crackling fires, faery lights in the trees and deep, silent rest. Now is our chance to look within and enjoy spiritual hibernation, peace and renewal. The seeds of our future, resting in the rich earth, need this period of stillness, as do we.
This modern holiday season can also be a hectic time, when the stresses and strains of life keep us locked away from nature and more natural ways of being. The Winter Solstice, when the world appears to stand still, can serve as a moment out of time, an opportunity to reconnect with our own souls once again. As we mark the descent of the seasonal wheel and the height of the year’s darkness, we realize that the light and warmth of the sun will soon be returned to us.
Alban Arthan, the name modern Druids give this time, means ‘the light of Arthur’. Arth, or Arthur, means ‘bear’ in Welsh so Alban Arthan celebrates both the mythical King Arthur and the stellar Arthur, the Great Bear constellation, which shines brightly at this season. Arthur the ‘bear’ is a figure of hope and renewal in the Celtic tradition, while Arthur the ‘Once and Future King’ is both a fierce protector and leader of the people, as well as the god-king who rises and falls, just like the sun.
In the Celtic wheel, the Winter Solstice is placed in the north, the position of death and rebirth. This is symbolized by the Great Bear constellation, also known as ‘Arthur’s Wain’, which rises in the north during the winter months. And so Alban Arthan, ‘the light of Arthur’, honours the return of Arthur at this, the darkest time of the year. The old god falls and is born anew. If we now ‘go within’, into the deep caves of our own psyches, our instinct to seek quiet and warmth can lead to our regeneration, allowing us to enter the new year with renewed vigour and enthusiasm.
Winter Solstice at Stonehenge
The Winter Solstice has been of deep spiritual significance since the Neolithic era and was marked by the stone circles and rows, passage tombs and temples left by the first farmers ever to till the rich earth. There are a number of sites aligned to the rising or setting of the sun in the UK and Ireland: the ancient monuments at Maeshowe on Orkney, at Stonehenge in Wiltshire and at Newgrange in County Meath. Other sacred places around the world that celebrate the Winter Solstice include the Hopewell culture sites of High Bank Works in the USA at Chillicothe, Ohio, and the Marietta Earthworks, also in Ohio, as well as the Temple of Karnak in Egypt, Goseck circle in Germany and the recently built Stonehenge Aotearoa in New Zealand.
One of the most famous places aligned to the Winter Solstice is Newgrange, also known as Brú na Bóinne (Palace of the Boyne), a majestic structure dating from 3200 BCE. This circular cairn or passage tomb has an exterior of white quartz and rounded granite boulders, and its impressive entrance stone is famously carved with intricate spiral designs, referring perhaps to the wheel of the seasons or the repeating journey through life, death and rebirth. Its entrance also includes a small ‘roof box’ through which the first rays of the Winter Solstice sunrise penetrate the deepest recesses of the tomb and illuminate the triple spiral carved upon its back chamber.
Many cultures have a Green Man or god of nature and vegetation in their folklore and mythology. From the Mesopotamian Dumuzi to the Greek Attis and the Egyptian Osiris, the image of the Green Man, embodying the life force of the earth, calls us back into relationship with nature once again and reminds us of his many gifts. The Green Man always undergoes a death and journey through the underworld during the season of winter before being reborn in the spring.
The foliage-covered face of what we have come to call the Green Man is carved upon medieval church walls all over Europe and is still a popular name for British pubs. These mysterious figures stand for our enduring love of the wild green spaces of the earth, and reveal threads of indigenous pagan belief enduring through millennia. During the winter months, we know him in British folklore as the Holly King, the Wild Hunter and the spirit of the forest, keeping the fertility of the coming year safe in his spiky evergreen leaves, till spring returns.
The Holly King features in British myths and folklore in numerous guises: a Green Man, he also hearkens back to the old Saxon and Celtic hunter gods, such as Woden, the antlered Cernunnos, Gwyn and, later, Herne (see page 230). He also features in the medieval tale of Gawain and the Green Knight, who carries a holly staff as a symbol of his authority and challenges King Arthur’s court. His Green Lady, who attempts to seduce Gawain in a test of honour, is a version of the sovereignty goddess for whom the kings or gods of winter and summer do battle at each turn of the season, in order to bring fertility to the land (see page 90). In medieval times a boy would play the part of the Holly King and walk around the town accompanied by his bride, the Ivy Girl, and the couple would tease and taunt each other in a kind of ritualized courtship – a lingering echo of a far more ancient tradition.
The Holly King can be called upon to assist you during winter. He is concerned with all sorts of practical issues, such as the ability to support yourself or to provide for your family, but he is also helpful whenever you are undergoing any kind of emotional or spiritual winter. We all experience times of doubt and darkness, of emotional drought or ennui, when our energy or enthusiasm is low and we feel overwhelmed by circumstances. Calling upon the Holly King can give us an extra boost and encourage our life force and enthusiasm to burn brighter, reigniting our lives and perspectives and bringing on the thaw.
The Holly King, ruler of winter
First, stand up straight and take three deep breaths, really feeling your connection with the earth beneath your feet anchoring you to the present moment. Take a holly leaf and hold it up either to the sun or to the flames of a fire. Let your vision soften so that, without blinding yourself, you let the image of the holly and the light blend into each other. Alternatively, do this in your imagination. Feel the earth beneath you, and the great heat within the land, the fire at the centre of the earth radiating up through the rock and soil to where you stand. This heat, this fire, like the sun, endures throughout the winter; it has burned since the dawn of time. Now focus again on the holly – how green and robust it is, how full of life. This is the sign of the Holly King, guardian of that fire within the land, guardian of the winter sun. Call to him, using your own words, or try these:
‘Holly King, lord of winter, I call to you. Here in this place I feel winter’s chill, but I also know the heat of the eternal fires that you keep. I give thanks to you for all your blessings and for the challenges you teach me to overcome. Hasten to my aid! Lend me the strength to endure and shine bright, and let life return to me. Blessed be!’
Be still and quiet, and receptive to any ideas or images that come to you, as these may be guidance from the Holly King to support you at this time.
Focus again on the holly leaf and, in your inner vision, imagine it filled with fire and heat till it glows with golden light. Keep the leaf with you, in your pocket or in a special pouch or bag, as a talisman to support you and remind you of his guidance.
At midwinter the days are at their shortest and the powers of light and warmth are subdued by those of darkness and cold. However, from this point onward the days lengthen. It is at this pivotal point in the year when the lord of the sun is born anew, bringing with him hope and renewal and life once again. While the sun seems to ‘stand still’ for this precious moment, we know that it will not be so dark again for another year. For this reason, in mythologies all around the world, many sun gods and magical children are said to have been born at this time. These beings are often called the ‘child of promise’ or the ‘wondrous child’ who heals the world by his very birth.
As well as Jesus Christ, sun gods such as the Roman Mithras and the Greek Attis are said to have been reborn at the Winter Solstice. In Roman times, the modern date for Christmas, 25 December, was declared the birth date of Sol Invictus, the ‘unconquered sun’, long before it was associated with Jesus. Moreover, a cult of the sun is said to have existed right back to Etruscan times (c. 700–200 BCE).
In ancient Britain, sun god imagery can be found in tales of King Arthur as well as in the old Celtic myths about the Mabon. The Welsh tale of Culhwch and Olwen, for example, tells how Culhwch, King Arthur’s nephew, must hunt a giant boar named Twrch Trwyth in order to prove his worth and win the hand of the maiden Olwen. The only way he can accomplish this is by seeking the aid of the greatest hunter of the realm – Mabon, son of Modron. Mabon, whose name means ‘son of the mother’, was stolen from his mother’s side when he was two nights’ old and is one of those perennial figures in Celtic and indeed world mythology: the wondrous child. He embodies the child within us all that is so easily lost, as well as hope, renewal and promise for the future. These solar qualities eventually overcome the spirit of the King of Winter, as signified by the giant boar, an ancient Celtic totem of power and leadership, hunted through the winter months.
It is important to connect with our own wondrous inner child during the Winter Solstice; this is a time of peace and dreaming to find a new way to relate to the world and ourselves. So much of our day-to-day lives is filled with work, duty and responsibilities of all kinds that it’s vital for our wellbeing to take this precious moment to shake ourselves free of restrictions and rediscover what truly gives us joy and hope.
Midwinter is full of opportunities to reignite your imagination and enchant your life once more. Seasonal arts and crafts, messing about in the woods, joining in children’s games and imaginative activities that absorb you will all nourish your inner child and help you rediscover the gift of being rather than doing. You might also like to spend some time remembering the dreams you had for your life when you were young. While some of those dreams may not be ones you have now, allowing yourself to re-envision your life, even for just a while, can be a powerful act of healing and empowerment. Ask yourself:
• If you could be anyone, doing anything, who would that be?
• And what would you do?
The choice to be whomever and whatever we wish never really leaves us, although the everyday world might encourage us to forget this fact. All we need to do is allow ourselves to rediscover our own wondrous child within. When we remember the magic we once felt was possible in the world, we open up to everything life can offer us. Hold those dreams tight, let them guide you and just allow your adult self to work out the details and act upon them.
During the Winter Solstice the stars are especially bright and looking into the heavens and imagining how they were perceived long ago can be really spiritually uplifting. The retreat of nature allows the stellar realm to come into greater focus; the stars twinkle through bare branches like frosty flowers as the earth sleeps.
In the northeast sky, the constellation of Ursa Major, the Great Bear, or ‘Arthur’s Wain’ is especially significant. The mythical King Arthur gains his name from the ancient Celtic bear god Artaius and his mother Artio, deities of the earth who retreat into womb-like caves over winter, and this constellation and its accompanying one, the Little Bear, is named in the Celtic tradition in their honour.
Part of the Ursa Major constellation is the asterism (star pattern) known as the Plough or the Big Dipper. This is made up of six bright stars and a seventh fainter star. The two stars on its right-hand edge (the edge of the cup of the Big Dipper, from bottom to top) lead us in the direction of Polaris, the Pole or North Star. This star is hardly seen to move and, from our perspective, functions as a central axis point around which the heavens move. Polaris is the brightest and final right-hand star in the constellation Ursa Minor (the Little Bear) which, like the Mabon, can be understood as a sacred ‘wondrous child’.
This meditation seeks out the Great Bear so you can enable the birth of the Mabon, the child of promise, within your own soul, as you seek renewal and rebirth in your own life by honouring the darkness and the return of the light within.
Sitting comfortably, close your eyes and take three deep breaths. Let your eyes gently relax behind your closed lids and allow your imagination to sink into the darkness. Let your breathing deepen and slow naturally, then expand your awareness to imagine that you are in a vast, dark cave. Gradually become aware that your breathing is being matched by a huge, warm presence all around you, and you feel a great heat and stillness radiating out from its form, unseen in the darkness. This is the Great Mother Bear, the ancient and most powerful mother goddess, deep in the womb of the earth. Allow yourself to be still and breathe, feeling her presence and stillness, her slow beating heart surrounding you with love, comfort and acceptance.
In time you become aware of a distant pinprick of light far ahead and you feel the Great Mother Bear begin to stir. Together you go toward it, you and she, walking side by side, slowly and deliberately through the darkness. You feel her warmth and support, her deep, wild kindness surrounding you and giving you courage.
The pinprick ahead grows bigger and brighter and suddenly, with a great push, you emerge from the cave into dazzling silver light. The Great Mother Bear still supports you as you find yourself surrounded by the stars, vast and powerful beyond measure. You chime with the great song of the heavens, which is unknowable and yet has been the rhythm of your blood ever since you were born onto the earth. The light envelops you as thickly as the warm fur of the Great Mother Bear and your very being fills with light and love. As you gaze around you, you know the stars, their constellations, the planets, the comets and all the magnitude of life in the universe as one great whole and for a moment you know yourself to be divine.
Now, gently as falling snow, you feel yourself drift down once more from your divine self, down onto the beautiful, precious earth below you, a blue-green jewel … and, as easily as breathing, you find yourself back in your body once more, eyes closed, your heart beating slowly and steadily. Hold for a moment the memory of what you have seen and felt, and know it is yours, always. Then wriggle your fingers and toes and open your eyes as you return to the everyday world. You may need to ground yourself carefully after this exercise by eating and drinking and taking your time to feel yourself back in your body.
There is one plant that holds much of the magic of the Winter Solstice within it: the mistletoe (viscum album), also known as the Golden Bough. This evergreen plant grows in large clumps in the branches of trees – especially apple trees – and in winter its white viscous berries can be a common sight in orchards and even suburban gardens. Writing of the Iron Age Druids, the Roman author Pliny tells us that they cut branches of mistletoe with a golden sickle on the sixth day of the moon after the Winter Solstice. Known as ‘all-heal’, mistletoe was a powerful talisman for healing, fertility and magic, its sticky white berries perhaps signifying the seed of the Sun God himself, ready to impregnate the land with new life. The mistletoe was of such deep significance during midwinter that the practice of finding a place for it in our homes remains to this day, surviving as part of the Christmas celebrations. The fertility magic it embodies is still recognized, albeit in a more restrained form perhaps, in the tradition of kissing beneath it.
The ancient Druids considered mistletoe especially sacred when it grew on an oak tree – the oak being dedicated to the god of the sun. However, apple trees are wonderful spirits in their own right and mistletoe from an apple tree works just as well if you want to bring a little fertility magic into your home during the winter.
Wrap the mistletoe in a white cloth before hanging it in special places around the home, tied with red or white ribbon. Hanging mistletoe over the bed with a simple prayer for a child is an ancient charm to enhance fertility, whereas placing it over the hearth or the front door encourages kinship, goodwill and a happy home. Hang up your mistletoe with simple prayers for love, good friendships, a beautiful home and garden, success in your business or any creative adventure, and it will bring your dreams to manifestation in the coming spring. When the solstice has passed, either leave the mistletoe in its place or find another respectful place to hang it over the coming year and then burn it at the following Winter Solstice, replacing it with a fresh bunch.
Here are some tips for gathering mistletoe from the wild:
• Before you cut it, ask that the plant give some of its spirit to bring the gift of life into your home.
• Cut it with as much respect as possible, using sharp secateurs. Never take all of it.
• When you have cut it, place your hand over the cut and thank the mistletoe spirit in your own words, lending some of your care as an exchange.
• If you want to use mistletoe as a charm, don’t allow it to touch the ground or its powers will dissipate into the soil (though this is good for Mother Nature as its ancient magic is said to bring spring back to the earth).
This sacred plant can bring some vital life force and good luck into your home at a time when your energy may be running low. Try a spell to add a little extra magic to your mistletoe and bring your dreams to life.
Create a sacred space in any way that suits you (a clean and tidy table will serve just as well) where you can set out what you will need for the spell: a fresh white candle, some matches, a few mistletoe berries and a small white pouch.
Start by taking a few deep breaths, then ask aloud that all good spirits aid you and bless your work. Now light the candle and, in your own words, ask aloud that you may draw greater creativity or fertility into your life. Be specific about the sort of creativity or fertility you want. What do you want to draw to you? Do you want to learn new skills? Or do you want to bring a child into the world? Perhaps you are looking for more creative ways of being or of handling a situation or of bringing healing into your life.
Hold the berries in your hand and again, in your own words, ask the mistletoe spirit to help you. State aloud what you wish to bring to you; confide in the mistletoe like a trusted friend. Imagine you can see the berries glowing with golden light. With every deep breath you take, the light grows stronger, and the two of you begin to set the magic to work.
When you are ready, thank the mistletoe and place the berries in the pouch, and either carry them with you or keep them somewhere safe for the next three months. Snuff out the candle, and relight it each evening until it burns down. After three months bury the mistletoe in the earth with your thanks.
The ancient tradition of bringing an evergreen tree into the house at the Winter Solstice transcends national customs. It harks back to our pagan past, when evergreen boughs were considered to be embodiments of the spirit of life and were brought inside to ensure its survival through the winter months.
If you bring an evergreen into your home to encourage cheer and fertility over the season, consider choosing one that is still living. If it is a cut tree, placing it in a stand with a water reservoir or in a bucket of wet sand will preserve its life force for longer. As you decorate the tree, place each object on it with a blessing. Giving thanks for the tree’s sacrifice, talk to it as an honoured guest and a symbol of the Holly King or Green Man. When the season has passed, cut a piece of the trunk and wrap it up to burn as next year’s Yule log, forging a link between the spirits of the wild and the celebrations of one year and the next.
In Siberia and other northern cultures where indigenous shamanic practice survives, pine trees are often considered to be ‘World Trees’, which the shaman climbs to contact the spirit world. Evidence suggests that early versions of Santa Claus were echoes of these shamans, dressed in skins and descending (now down the chimney) with gifts from the realms above.
In the Celtic calendar, the Winter Solstice is a time of stillness and rebirth, when the wheel of the seasons completes its turning, only to begin again. Try making holly wreaths and beautiful orange pomanders to create a more festive atmosphere and scent your home.
A holly wreath is a powerful, traditional charm that can protect your home from winter storms and bad luck as well as being a festive decoration. Wreaths can be made either by using a traditional florist’s hoop stuffed with moss, or a sponge oasis, or they can be bound alone in a hoop. The plants you use can add extra magic and spiritual significance. Heather looks good and, like ivy, is sacred to several Celtic goddesses, and holly is, of course, sacred to the Holly King himself.
To make the wreath, you’ll some holly and ivy and/or greenery of your choice. You could use plants from your garden or gather responsibly from your local area. Start by tying the greenery into a circle or around a florist’s hoop and secure with red ribbon. Tuck and weave the stems of greenery into each other to make a form that holds together well.
Additional florist’s wire hidden in the foliage can be used to provide extra, invisible structure. Be creative but keep it simple, as a more rustic look often works best.
When you have made the wreath, hold it up toward the sun and ask that it be blessed and charged with protection for the home and all those within it. This is old magic. Use your own words, as they come from your heart and express your true intentions; or you can try this simple prayer:
‘Lord of the winter sun, empower this, your charm, and grant this home and all those within it your protection and blessing over this sacred time. So may it be!’
Hang the wreath on the front door, or use it as a decoration around a solstice candle in a place of honour, such as in the centrepiece for a table or over the fireplace. Other pieces of holly can also be blessed and charged in the same way and placed over doors and windows.
Oranges, or other citrus fruits, can also be made into scented decorations using the sun wheel symbol (a cross within a circle), by pinning cloves into the fruit in this pattern. Symbolic of the sun, these pomanders look beautiful hung on a tree or placed in a painted bowl on a table. If you plan to prepare several pomanders, consider wearing thin gloves, as pinning in cloves can make thumbs sore.
To make your pomander, take an orange or other citrus fruit and pin a line of cloves around it, so that a vertical band encircles the whole fruit. You may choose to do this as a single line of cloves, or as two lines spaced apart, or make a dense band by pinning multiple cloves close together. Next, pin in a horizontal band at right angles around the orange, to create the cross-beams of the sun wheel. Tie a ribbon around the pomander to hang it from the tree. If you want to make a more complex design, such as stars or spiral patterns, you can mark out the outline first, either using single cloves or with a pencil, and then fill in the shape you require.
Orange pomanders
An altar displaying objects associated with the Winter Solstice will add real festive spirit to your home. Candles, pinecones and evergreen boughs look lovely placed upon a white, green or red cloth, but use whatever natural objects and greenery signify the season for you. You could also add an oil burner and pictures of beautiful winter scenes, perhaps including one that features sunrise.
The practice of blessing each other and the spirits of the orchards with homemade spiced cider or ale, together with songs and merriment, goes back to Anglo-Saxon times. Wassailing, as it is known, now usually takes place on Twelfth Night (6 January) in the northern hemisphere, but it used to be practised at Yule, Imbolc and other seasonal feast times, too. In your modern Winter Solstice celebration (see page 287), you might want to revive this tradition as a way of gathering with friends, family and community to appreciate the gifts of nature.
Make your offering to the spirit of the orchard – sometimes known as the Apple Man or Avalloch (see page 197) – by pouring a cup of warmed cider and placing a piece of toast at the roots of an apple tree or any other fruit-bearing tree. Take your time and do this reverentially, being truly present as you thank the trees for their gifts of fruit over the summer and ask that they continue in their generosity in the coming year. Say these words:
‘I thank you, Spirit of the Apple Tree, for all your gifts, this year and the next! Blessed be!’
Going back millennia the Winter Solstice has been a season for feasting and gathering with family and friends as a way of bringing the light back into our lives at this darkest time of the year. Eating delicious seasonal local produce, as well as sharing our abundance with others, binds us closer to our environment and community and brings the sacred as well as the sensual into our everyday lives in a meaningful way. Spiced cider and mulled wine are traditional drinks for the season and are deliciously warming after a cold day.
This recipe is really easy to make and perfect for wassailing. For a non-alcoholic drink, replace the cider with apple juice.
You will need
• 3 apples, grated
• 1.5 litres/52fl oz/6 cups cider or apple juice
• 75g/2½oz/⅓ cup brown sugar
• ½ tsp whole nutmeg, grated
• ¼ tsp ground cloves
• 3 tsp dried cinnamon stick, grated
• 2 tsp fresh ginger root, grated
Place the apples in a large pan and cover with the cider, then cook for about 5 minutes or until the fruit is soft.
Add the sugar and spices and gently simmer for 20 minutes to 1 hour, depending on your taste.
Pour into a large cup or bowl to be shared around, while offering the blessing ‘waes hael’ (‘good health’).
An essential part of the holiday season, mulled wine is very easy to make. These sachets are wonderful aromatic gifts and can be imbued with a little magic for extra cheer.
You will need, per sachet
• 4 tsp brown sugar
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1 tsp ground ginger
• 1 tsp whole or ground cardamom
• ½ tsp whole cloves
• ½ tsp whole star anise
• 4 tbsp dried rose petals
• One tumbled quartz crystal for blessings – for example, choose rose quartz for love or citrine for solar blessings
• Small muslin drawstring pouch
Place the sugar, spices and rose petals in a bowl with the crystal and stir the ingredients deiseil (clockwise or sunwise) with a wooden or silver spoon, to make the mix resonate with the energy and movements of the sun. Smile as you work to imbue the mix with love, and visualize the light of the sun going into the mix, with all the fresh energy and heat of the summer to come, growing steadily as you stir. See this as a spiral of golden orange energy coiling around the bowl. Then say:
‘Holly and Ivy, queen and king, to me your magic and blessings bring. Rid all those who taste this of cold or fear, and grant to us all your blessings and cheer!’
Repeat the rhyme over and over, feeling the energy and your intention build until you sense that the mix is full of the magic and blessings of the sun. Remember to thank the sun and the earth goddess when you’ve finished.
Finally, place the mix and the crystal into the muslin bag, and you have a magical winter gift for friends and family. As you do this, think of the person you are giving it to and add any specific prayers for their future at the same time, in your own words. For example, you might say:
‘May [insert name] be happy, wealthy and wise!’
Alternatively, you can repeat the above spell while adding the ingredients to the wine in a pan and stirring your intention into the brew while it heats.
For thousands of years solstice fires have been lit at this time to celebrate the rebirth of the sun. By lighting our own fire, we feel the connection with the generations who have done this before and the bright firelight reminds us of the sun, offering inspiration and cheer.
A solstice fire can be lit inside your home if you have a hearth, or built in a garden or other outdoor space. Try to make it a wild fire (a fire lit without a lighter or chemicals), if you have the skill. The solstice is a good time to experiment with these old skills and there is plenty of information on bush-craft websites to help you. There is a primal satisfaction in learning fire lighting, a skill our ancestors all had but so many of us have now lost. Alternatively, light your fire with firelighters and a little kindling before adding larger logs. When your fire is burning merrily, give thanks to the fire spirits and make offerings of wood, prayers and incense. Use your own words and initiative to make the ceremony your own.
If you want a solstice focal point in the home try using a large pillar candle – red, white or gold are the best colours for this, as they are reminiscent of the sun itself. You can anoint the candle with frankincense or cinnamon essential or perfumed oil and place it somewhere prominent, surrounded by a holly wreath or other seasonal decorations. Light it with a prayer to the lord of the sun each evening, and snuff – never blow – it out at night. Blowing out a magical candle sends the magic out to wander and dissipate freely with unexpected results! That’s OK for a birthday wish, but not for something sacred and deliberate.
The Yule log is a wonderful ancient tradition found all across Europe and can truly help us to keep in mind the cyclical nature of the seasons and maintain our hopes and spirits from one year to the next. The log is a special piece of wood – a root or part of the evergreen tree brought in during the Yule holidays that you burn with a special prayer or wish. A solstice fire is the perfect place to burn a traditional Yule log.
Write down your wishes for the following year on small pieces of paper, along with a list of the things you are grateful for, and tie them to the log with red ribbon. When your solstice fire is going well, add the log to the flames so that the flames transform your wishes and ascend to the spirit realms upon the smoke. Keep a small piece of the log to use as kindling for next year’s Winter Solstice fire to maintain a cycle of magical intent from year to year, as well as to align your sacred actions to the ever-turning cycle of the sun itself.
Blessing the house is a traditional practice, filling the home and its inhabitants with spiritual light at the time of greatest darkness. This blessing (recorded in The Carmina Gadelica) and other similar ones, referring to a king or lord of the sun, were used in the Scottish Highlands and Islands until the last century, usually at Winter Solstice. Signs of earlier pagan blessings remain within them and they can be adapted to suit a modern celebration.
‘Hail King! Hail King! Blessed is he! Blessed is he!
Prosperity be upon this dwelling,
On all that you have heard and seen,
Bless this house and all that it contains,
From rafter and stone and beam;
Deliver it to God and Goddess from pall to cover,
Be the healing of men therein,
Be you in lasting possession of this house,
Be you healthy about the hearth;
Let there be Joy!’
This meditation creates a space for us to go within and deep into the earth to find peace. It’s an opportunity for self-reflection and connection at this sacred time. It is best practised somewhere quiet and cosy, perhaps late at night by the fire or wrapped up warm and snug in a blanket.
Begin by sitting comfortably and closing your eyes. Take three deep breaths. Feel the breath deep in your stomach and, as you breathe out, let any tension inside you and any everyday thoughts just drift away.
After a while, let your attention gently rest upon the vast depth of the sleeping earth beneath you and the all-encompassing warmth at the great heart of the planet. Now let your attention drift again and imagine all the sleeping animals, snug in caves and dens; envision all the seeds and bulbs, the sleeping roots wrapped in soil and feel the roots of your own being, deep and still, in the enveloping quiet of the earth. When you are ready, slowly let your attention rise back into your own body, up into your heart and the warm dark space in which it resides in your chest. Feel its steady rhythm, its slow pulse. In this warmth and quiet, just be a while. Take this chance to be still and listen to your heart.
Mixed thoughts and feelings may rise to the surface here and, if they do, greet them with peace and gentleness. It has been difficult for them to draw your attention. The quiet voice with which they speak to you is your inner self, the voice of your soul, and any message they bring is a rare treasure. Treat the promptings of your heart with great care and compassion, like tiny seeds of the future that you will grow within yourself during the spring to come.
We may not always be able to visit a sacred site aligned to the Winter Solstice, but we are able to visit such places in spirit and in our imagination. Working this way stimulates our inner vision and engages our spirit in ways that have been used for healing and empowerment for thousands of years. Visualization, together with meditation, offers an opportunity to connect with ourselves at a deeper level – a chance that the modern world rarely allows.
This visualization draws upon what we know about how the Winter Solstice was once marked at Newgrange in Ireland by those in the Neolithic era.
It is night and the air is cold. You look down at your bare feet upon the grass. A wintry but gentle breeze brushes against your cheek, stirring your hair. Around you there are others, walking slowly; some are speaking in low voices, others chanting and singing so quietly you can barely hear them. Some are silent. There are men and women of every age; some are walking with sticks or tall staffs. Younger children weave through everyone’s legs or walk upright, eyes wide looking all around them. Some bear flaming torches; others carry small jars or bundles in their arms, holding them close with great care and tenderness.
Looking ahead, you see you are climbing a hill and in the darkness a vast but low mound is visible on its summit. Around its sides there is the pale glimmer of white stones shimmering in the darkness. Your heart beats harder and your steps grow faster as you make the steady climb. As you draw near to the mound, a buzz of excitement, a wave of emotion comes over you and you feel the great sanctity of this place. There is a tingle of power in the air that speaks to something ancient and a longing within you.
As you approach the mound, the great guardian stones – tall megaliths – loom out from the darkness. Those who have torches extinguish them in a huge stone cauldron and the crowd gathers, silently waiting. Even the children grow still and quiet. Those who hold bundles and jars come together, their heads bowed, each touching their brow to the stones, while others kneel or crouch to touch their lips to the cold earth. You step forward, joining those who will go within. There is a small cloth-wrapped bundle in your arms, too; you have not noticed it before but now you realize you have been carrying this for a long time, over many miles, many years.
Ahead of you, the entrance to the mound is dark and a vast guardian stone blocks the way. Each of your companions approaches this stone with great respect. Reaching out to touch it, you see in the glimmer of starlight that there are many spirals upon it. Tracing them with your finger, tears come to your eyes – not tears of sorrow but of soul, of deep remembering, as you contemplate the spirals of one life after another, your own and your ancestors flowing one into another, endless and complete. As your fingers trace a spiral, further and deeper into its centre, you feel a shift deep within and find yourself gliding into the mound, into the utter darkness. The guardians have accepted you and you may enter the most sacred of places, the womb of the earth. Here you must stoop and crawl upward. It is warmer here, your chest and stomach and sides brush against stone and soil, as if you are climbing into a great woman’s body, her stone and earthen spine stretched and arched over the hill beneath you.
Suddenly the way opens up, and you may stand or crouch once more. You sense the presence of the others. You feel their breath mingling with the scents of moist earth, of stone, of darkness. You feel your heart beating in your chest, pounding in your ears, and sense the others’ hearts beating as one with your own, perhaps to the pulse of the great mound herself. The pulse becomes a low drumming, a chanting at the edge of hearing, and your body sways, tight in the darkness, against stone, against the other warm living souls. Gradually the beat grows stronger and one voice takes the lead, a single beat made by someone further in, singing and striking a staff upon the stony earth. For a while, their rhythm becomes all you know, part of your very being, and you see lights, bright in the darkness, spirals and stars swirling as if the heavens were here, and you were a part of them.
Suddenly, the chanting and the striking of wood on stone ceases. The silence is so strong and complete it is almost a physical force. You become aware that you dare not breathe, you will yourself not to breathe, and you hold the bundle in your arms tighter against your chest. Now the time is here, you resist, tears spring into your eyes, and you long to keep this bundle tight against you for ever. But ahead you see a gentle light, a tiny golden thread – not the silver blue of stars but a warm golden light, the tiniest sliver of the new sun, breaching the smothering dark. It grows and flows inward, the tide of a rushing sea of life. Beyond this place is the sun, newly risen, newly returned and reborn.
And as the light grows, touching deeper within, all those around you let out a deep sigh. There is another presence here now, a balance to the dark goddess of the earth, of the hill that holds you so close. The light of the sun is full of life beyond the earth, beyond the spiralling stars, of the source from which all life begins and is renewed. There is movement around you as stiff arms hold out their bundles and jars are opened carefully, offering what lies within, that these first rays of new life may touch them. And as the light grows and touches all those souls within its reach, wisps of starry light rise up from all around and join the golden river of the sun.
Your arms tremble and there are tears on your cheek, as you unwrap your own bundle, and the bones of all that has passed lie open at last to the new light and turn to shimmering dust. The life they carried has returned once more to the source, exultant. They flash and are gone, risen upon the dawn.
Each person in turn places all that remains – bones and ashes – within shallow stone cauldrons deep in the heart of the mound, and crawl, heads bowed but hearts light, out into the new day.
Take your time as you let yourself return to your body once more. Feel yourself back in the here and now, and wiggle your fingers and toes before moving about.
Remember to ground yourself well afterwards by eating and drinking and perhaps recording your experiences in a journal.
The Winter Solstice has always been a traditional time for ceremony and celebration. Gathering at this time helps us to nurture our relationships over the winter. Honouring the darkest night and the return of the light within our own lives as well as in the world around us is empowering and supportive, helping us envision new ways of being and giving space to our inner selves in the coming year.
Celebrating with friends, family and/or the wider community
Find a place where everyone can gather, perhaps with a solstice fire, and celebrate with songs and stories. Ask everyone to bring an instrument to play, a poem or a tale to share. Contributions can be spontaneous and recited by heart, or read aloud; it makes no difference. Try to include everyone, especially children and elders.
Prepare and share a feast, with hot drinks or soup if you’re outside. Encourage everyone to dress up, as snow sprites and faeries, Jack Frost, the Holly King or the Cailleach. If you can, do vigil together through the longest night, awaiting the dawn in silence after a prolonged celebration. You might also like to include a winter solstice chant, such as the Gaelic winter blessing (see page 282), ending with a great rousing cheer, ‘The sun has returned!’
When your ceremony is complete, finish with a feast. Now is a good time to share some mulled wine, spiced cider (see pages 279 and 278) and other festive foods, bringing in the solstice cheer.
Celebrating alone
Before the Winter Solstice, gather wood for a solstice fire and prepare any materials for your spells and crafts, such as your holly wreath or mulled wine charm sachets (see pages 274 and 279).
Solstice fire with Yule log and candles
To add atmosphere you might want to decorate your space just before the ceremony with holly, ivy, mistletoe and other evergreen boughs, as well as orange pomanders (see page 275) and candles.
Begin your ceremony by calling in the four directions and creating a sacred space (see page 14) before calling to any gods you feel drawn to: the Holly King, the Great Mother Bear and the sun god are obvious seasonal choices at this time. Alternatively, you may like to call upon your ancestors to bless and support your life and path or to help with anything that concerns you. Use your own heartfelt words to call upon them, as this is always more authentic and powerful, but you might say,
‘Lord of the sun, king of the holly, please join us and bless us at this sacred time.’
Now would be a good time to perform the stellar or Winter Solstice visualization (see pages 269 and 282) or the mistletoe spell (see page 272).
You may now want to light a solstice fire, a Yule log or a candle (see pages 280–81). When it is lit, take a moment to gaze into the flames in silence. In your mind’s eye, consider the returning sun, making the days longer and brighter from here until midsummer. Consider your life, and the ways in which you have grown tired and now seek renewal. The coming weeks are a time for rest and contemplation, for nurturing the seed of new life in darkness a while longer until it grows strong and emerges in spring.
Whether you are celebrating with friends and family or alone, finally, take a moment to give thanks and gratitude to each direction and element, as well as to any gods or ancestors for their help in your ceremony and their presence in your life. Give thanks for all the blessings of every kind that have come to you over the last year. This makes us conscious of the bond we have with all creation, and the interconnectedness of all things, which helps us grow into greater harmony with life.
In celebrating the Winter Solstice we nourish our spiritual lives and create new ways of encountering the world around us, as well as enhancing the sense of renewal that this season offers in preparation for the first green shoots of the coming new year.
Blessed be!