Winter Solstice is a natural time for contemplation and reflection. It’s a more powerful transition than the flip of the calendar year. For months, the days become shorter. Darkness descends: an invitation to rest and nourish. The primal parts of us lean into hibernation. We stock our pantries, make soup, wrap in blankets, and get more sleep. We slow the pace and turn inward.
This turning inward is a natural rhythm. For me, it’s a time to notice my vulnerabilities and soft spots. My heart is bare, just like tree branches. And in those tender places, I see what needs to shift or grow. It’s a time to plant seeds within my consciousness.
Then tomorrow, we move toward more light. Nothing radical, just small change. Little bit by little bit, I water the seeds in my heart. I cultivate strength, patience, and compassion. Some days, I water more; other days, I forget. But with regular effort, what I’ve planted today will grow and blossom in the spring. This isn’t a New Year’s resolution; it’s a seed of intention to be nurtured.
I celebrate the darkness that comes with Solstice. It’s this very darkness that more clearly accentuates the light, just as grief pairs with love; sadness pairs with resilience; and despair pairs with hope. We need to sit in the darkness, listen to our hearts, and choose which seeds to water. It’s a time to let go—release unnecessary expectations, limiting beliefs, and external baggage; it’s a time to nurture that within us that longs to bloom. Even in the heart of winter, we can begin preparations for spring.