Today is the winter solstice. This evening the tilt of the earth will place our hemisphere the furthest it is from the sun, rendering it the longest night of the year. Winter solstice is also known as the beginning of winter, and the “return of light,” as from this day forward, daylight hours will become longer.
A beautiful image on today’s local paper caught my eye – of a statue of a person trumpeting at sunrise – the sky an orange glow, and the black silhoette of the person in the forground. Beneath the photo the caption was something to the effect of: The bad news? Longest night of the year. Good news? Return of the light.
Yes, it’s true – this is what solstice is. But….I personally hestitate to judge it as good or bad. It is what it is.
It’s true that the long hours of darkness can perpetuate the “winter blues” and it is a time when grief and sadness can feel extra sharp and jagged against the expectation of joy and celebration. There is no doubt that the long nights of winter create a challenge on many levels for many people. There is also no doubt that people look forward to more of daylight, and the return of the sun, as this brings a sense of hope, renew, warmth and comfort in it’s wake. It is for this reason that solstice has been celebrated and ritualized throughout history.
Metaphorically, the darkness of winter solstice reminds us of the darkness of our life, and of our experiences. Our grief, loss and suffering can become more intense when the darkness of our environment surrounds us and perpetuates a sense of isolation and withdrawal. I have heard time and time again of how difficult this time of year is, and even in my own body I feel the natural tendancy towards slowing down, turning inward and looking deeply at the core of my being. I feel more lethargic, emotional, introspective and low.
However, I strongly challenge the notion that is “bad news.” For, the light can only exist in relation to the dark…Spring can only come from winter…Day can only come from night. As Robert Ingersoll says, ”In the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing.”
This is one of the great paradoxes of grief and mourning. Similarly, your pain at the death of your loved one can only extend from the depth of your love for them.
Suffering and love are two of the most true, raw, and unavoidable human experiences. They exist in relation to each other. Consequently, the task reconciling your grief and loss involves moving through the center of your grief and touching both the love and the hurt. Feeling the joy of the memory and the pain of the reality. In this way, over time, grief can be integrated it into your being.
Re-framing the experience of your grief journey (and solstice for that matter) with the words, “both/and” instead of “either/or,” we can use the darkness of winter solstice as a time to turn inward, become more reflective, and to slow down. We can hold it all – the light and the dark, love and pain, grief and joy.
We are not meant to run from the natural cycles of our lives (including joy and birth and inevitabely death and grief), nor are we meant to run from the natural cycles of the earth (sleep and wake, light and dark, changing of the seasons). By staying present and staying mindful, we learn to let our bodies vibrate with whatever our experiences bring. From this hope and light can grow. During this dark time of year, we can nurture our natural feelings towards hibernation we can find more rest in our own experience and develop a cocoon for our changed life to grow in. Can we hold the tendency towards darkness with an open palm and let it be present enough that we might see a flicker of light.
A yoga practice can reflect the cycles of the earth and the energy of the winter solstice by choosing more restorative and restful practices to conserve energy and by focusing more on meditation and breathing exercises than a strong physical practice. A Yin Yoga practice can feel especially quiet, restful and deep.
Two great articles for further reading:
Self Care for Winter Health via the Yoga Jounal
Winter Solstice Brings Messages of Hope and Renewal Amid Darkness via the Edmonton Journal
Palms Together…Namaste
A beautiful image on today’s local paper caught my eye – of a statue of a person trumpeting at sunrise – the sky an orange glow, and the black silhoette of the person in the forground. Beneath the photo the caption was something to the effect of: The bad news? Longest night of the year. Good news? Return of the light.
Yes, it’s true – this is what solstice is. But….I personally hestitate to judge it as good or bad. It is what it is.
It’s true that the long hours of darkness can perpetuate the “winter blues” and it is a time when grief and sadness can feel extra sharp and jagged against the expectation of joy and celebration. There is no doubt that the long nights of winter create a challenge on many levels for many people. There is also no doubt that people look forward to more of daylight, and the return of the sun, as this brings a sense of hope, renew, warmth and comfort in it’s wake. It is for this reason that solstice has been celebrated and ritualized throughout history.
Metaphorically, the darkness of winter solstice reminds us of the darkness of our life, and of our experiences. Our grief, loss and suffering can become more intense when the darkness of our environment surrounds us and perpetuates a sense of isolation and withdrawal. I have heard time and time again of how difficult this time of year is, and even in my own body I feel the natural tendancy towards slowing down, turning inward and looking deeply at the core of my being. I feel more lethargic, emotional, introspective and low.
However, I strongly challenge the notion that is “bad news.” For, the light can only exist in relation to the dark…Spring can only come from winter…Day can only come from night. As Robert Ingersoll says, ”In the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing.”
This is one of the great paradoxes of grief and mourning. Similarly, your pain at the death of your loved one can only extend from the depth of your love for them.
Suffering and love are two of the most true, raw, and unavoidable human experiences. They exist in relation to each other. Consequently, the task reconciling your grief and loss involves moving through the center of your grief and touching both the love and the hurt. Feeling the joy of the memory and the pain of the reality. In this way, over time, grief can be integrated it into your being.
Re-framing the experience of your grief journey (and solstice for that matter) with the words, “both/and” instead of “either/or,” we can use the darkness of winter solstice as a time to turn inward, become more reflective, and to slow down. We can hold it all – the light and the dark, love and pain, grief and joy.
We are not meant to run from the natural cycles of our lives (including joy and birth and inevitabely death and grief), nor are we meant to run from the natural cycles of the earth (sleep and wake, light and dark, changing of the seasons). By staying present and staying mindful, we learn to let our bodies vibrate with whatever our experiences bring. From this hope and light can grow. During this dark time of year, we can nurture our natural feelings towards hibernation we can find more rest in our own experience and develop a cocoon for our changed life to grow in. Can we hold the tendency towards darkness with an open palm and let it be present enough that we might see a flicker of light.
A yoga practice can reflect the cycles of the earth and the energy of the winter solstice by choosing more restorative and restful practices to conserve energy and by focusing more on meditation and breathing exercises than a strong physical practice. A Yin Yoga practice can feel especially quiet, restful and deep.
Two great articles for further reading:
Self Care for Winter Health via the Yoga Jounal
Winter Solstice Brings Messages of Hope and Renewal Amid Darkness via the Edmonton Journal
Palms Together…Namaste
