Into Darkness

Daylight savings time ended earlier this month, and we’re well on our way toward Yule/Winter Solstice. I know everyone is bitching about it and wishing DST didn’t end: I’m exactly the opposite. I wish DST never started. It’s infinitely easier for me to get up in the morning and roll into my day when it’s light before 8:30am. But I get it: this time of year is the darkest, and not just because the sun goes down early (although, in our house, we’ve been asking each other if it’s suddenly midnight at 5pm). I’m far away from the constant orange glow of city streetlights in Burnsville, and with no snow on the ground the vast post-harvest fields are just giant black holes, sucking up moon and starlight. When the orange and pink brightness of sunset fades right after school lets out, and it’s pitch black by the time people are commuting home, headlights and street lamps don’t seem to be able to hold the line against the darkness.

That’s why there are so many holiday traditions, from so many different cultures and religions, related to bringing in the light (in the Northern Hemisphere…how’s your summer heating up, Aussies and Kiwis?). Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is a real deal issue: I find the multi-colored string lights help me a ton, and I hear if you can swing it those SAD light boxes are a damn lifesaver. Remember the light will return!! And, while folk may also hate snow, it’s magically lighter (and wonderfully quiet) once snow falls and all that star and moonlight has a place to reflect.

In the Pagan calendar (again, Northern Hemisphere) this is a time for rest and reflection whenever possible. I read a lot this time of year, and make hearty winter meals like chili and stew…comfort foods. I also end up journaling a lot and (this year especially as my year of sabbatical winds down) writing. I also love to get outside when it gets cold and snowy. Yep, I’m wholly aware of my weirdoness, but I love the dichotomy of crisp, cold air and toasty winter clothes followed by hot cocoa (or tea, or whatevs). It’s important in the winter to get outside at least once a day for a few minutes, just for the fresh air you aren’t getting in the house or office, you know? Otherwise, self care can look like whatever works for you: chill with movies or binge-Netflix and popcorn, snuggle under blankets with a good book or a loved one, go to bed early. You don’t have to do all the things, regardless of tradition and social pressures.

All the emotional, physical, financial, and mental stresses rising out of the expectations around “family time” linked with consumerism during the holidays can make these months hell for so many people, for so many reasons. Not everyone lives a Hallmark movie life, and not everyone has a close birth family. This is a reminder that “family” means the folk you love and love you, including pets and non-blood-relations. There are no rules on how you get through the holiday season: if you hates it precious, do your own thing that brings joy and meaning to your life, same as any other time of the year. I read a thing the other day where a person’s mental health was unwell to the point that doing the dishes was overwhelming because she had to rinse or soak them first, and her therapist said “just run the dishwasher twice, or three times. Who cares? YOU make the rules.” It’s your life: you make the rules. Be gentle with yourself as we walk through the darkness toward new beginnings.

We fight the literal darkness in our house with string lights around windows, candles, a fire in the fireplace whenever possible, and a couple of trees (plus, obvs, turning on normal lights which seems to baffle the horde, who generally prefer twilight lighting if possible…100% positive this is the biggest sign besides needing reading glasses that I’m getting old).

The horde decorated the trees yesterday, and now we are existing during fAngus’s favorite time of year: he can get completely high on catnip (the poor catnip plant may not survive the winter) and stare at multicolored lights or nap under the tree like the gift he’s confident he is.