Yesterday was a time of solstice. Stillness. After all this is what solstices means- to be still. We entered the longest night of the year and it certainly felt that way from where I was. As I sat in ceremony alone, having cancelled my solstice group meditation- I was brought to reflect in solitude, the darkness I’ve carried with me- over this past year….and there has been a lot.
From evictions, to homelessness to taking shelter where I am now… a small basement apartment, formed from concrete, cold and very dark. The only light a two by three window at the opposite end of the room, from where I sleep. I am in darkness all day. I am in the depths of my fertile soil- from where the seed of which I will root and blossom into something new, grow. It is no irony nor coincidence the Divine, Universe, Source, God, Jesus.. whichever name you wish to give to the energy that be- guided me to be here, in the cold basement among mold, mildew, damp, concrete and darkness. My sleeping deep and eternal and my heart slowing as though it belonged to a chameleon, because at the moment – it does.
After lighting my candles, and dropping in hints of sage to my water bowl, I sat with the altar pictured below…which I prepared. I reflected on how powerful each of the elements presented were. Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Ether. Each of the natures gifts, before me holding the capacity to grow from a seemingly nothingness- into life. The uncertainty of their darkness not even questioned. They surrender to it, not out of trust.. but out of necessity. Winter does not force things to die because it trusts spring will come.. It asks things to die because what it held in bloom- or rot- this past year will not serve it’s growth when the light grows strong, and springtime comes. Old growth is always forced out by new growth.
If a tree were to hold onto its leaves after winter- rotted, damp, broken, torn.. colours of burnt umber, yellow and red- that opens the door for infection, illness, pests and heavy weight that the branches- they themselves would not be able to hold. The branches would break- if they did not drop their leaves each year or its growth stunted, during colder months.
Take this as you metaphor this solstice. Your body is your branch- and the things you’ve been holding on to year after year after year, are weighting you down.. and if you feel tired, ill, broken.. it’s not because of what you are going through, however heavy…. but it is because you have not allowed room for anything else to die or go.. and so your shoulders bend forward towards the earth, you breaths heavy with exhaustion and your mind- weighted with what you’ve endured. It is time to let go of what needs to be dropped to the earth.. decomposed and put deep in the soil to nurture the next bloom. You… in 2026.
When I was younger, I was afraid of the dark but not darkness. I felt sacred and safe and silent.. when the lights were off, and the sky turned to black or what appeared to be midnight blue. Everything quieted on the streets, in our home and including the sound of the sadness that filled my innocent heart and head.. it was then I could hear the world. It was then that I could sit still with the moon, the cosmos.. and God. It was then, I could hear the beating of the earths drum. As I grew older, it was also where I felt the most stimulated by creative energy, writing and more. I often would wake in the middle of the night, from travelling in my dreams, and write in my journals with my eyes closed.. the words coming not from me, but from a realm beyond me. I always found comfort in the darkness and tonights solstice was no different.
A long time ago.. the Mesopotamians believed they would never see the sun again.. and although it feels like that for us today.. with the way our skies are being mistreated… we know that light prevails. The light returns… because it has to.. because life has to go on..because the magic held within each seed of it.. is far more powerful than anyone person could possibly know or imagine.
This morning when we awoke.. Tango; my dog and I stepped outside. It was cold, heavy with clouds and a deep grey. The air was fresh, the ground frozen and as I took my first breath of the cold into my lungs, I reflected on the longest night being over.. and that now this meant the days would now get shorter and nights longer. I looked up at the sky and smiled. I imagined how the Mesopotamians must have felt at seeing the light of day. Just then, the sun peeked out from behind this palette of grey and it shone down on me..my face. I smiled from the inner most part of me. That return of the light was a blessing. I felt Source confirming my thought and reminding me…. what must die… must be left behind…. what you let go, is now gone; dissolved because the light is too bright to carry it forward. The light always returns.
My hope for you after this solstice- is that you are reflecting on the heavy weights and the darkness you have carried this year. I know it has been a lot and immense for so many of us.. but know that in this space of darkness…you were being formed. It is a reminder for us- in darkness there is not only death, but like the womb of the woman, there is life.. creation at its finest – the mystical weaving the most intricate details- for existence to happen.
I ask that you look forward to your light, to the light…. the one that will birth new creations for this year.. and allow the weights you carried this past year to fall once and for all…. allow them to be lain in the soil, far deep beneath the snow.. and to dissolve so that they may nourish and nurture your soil; the life and creativity that will come forth from you this year.
~To all.. a beautiful winter solstice. And a heart warming beginning in allowing the golden light of the Divine to enter our bodies, fire up our spirits… moving us forward – and leaving our own trails of sparkling, glowing embers everywhere we go.
~Anita Menotti
WINTER SOLSTICE JOURNAL PROMPTS
Where has fear or disappointment shaped my choices this year?
What wisdom has darkness taught me? (We always learn something in the descent.)
What tiny spark of hope is returning to me now? No matter how faint — name it.
What light am I willing to carry forward into the next chapter?
Who do I become when I honour my own cycles instead of resisting them?
If this reflection met you, you are welcome to share your thoughts by email at hello@thewomenwebecome.com
With guidance ~ Anita
