The Winter Solstice is the shortest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere. It is the day with the least amount of sunlight all year. After the Winter Solstice, the days begin to grow longer until the Summer Solstice on June 21st when the days start to become shorter again.

The Solstice is a moment, a passing, a turning point. The word literally means “sun standing” – the day when the sun appears to stop moving in the sky as it turns back in a slow journey towards summer. The winter solstice has been celebrated for thousands of years by countless civilizations as a time to reflect, remember, and give thanks.

The winter solstice offers us the gift of experiencing darkness and light, something that resides in each one of us as human beings. When we step into the void of darkness, we can trust we are safe, we are ok, we are growing, we are becoming. As we rest in the belly of darkness, the light will come and it will illuminate our sight, our seeing, our knowing, and our way.  May you make the most of this special day in whatever way feels best. Enjoy this special guided meditation and our favorite rituals to help you slow down and tune in.

~@plenty

you may find yourself lingering in daydreams at dusk…..preparing for night dreams……

inquiry for today~ write your wise winter words on white paper in the darkest night….leave them behind…..

these deep nights

Chunky and noisy,
but with stars in their black feathers,
they spring from the telephone wire
and instantly

they are acrobats
in the freezing wind.
And now, in the theater of air,
they swing over buildings,

dipping and rising;
they float like one stippled starthat opens,
becomes for a moment fragmented,

then closes again;
and you watch
and you try
but you simply can’t imagine

how they do it
with no articulated instruction, no pause,
only the silent confirmation
that they are this notable thing,

this wheel of many parts, that can rise and spin
over and over again,
full of gorgeous life.

Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,
even in the leafless winter,
even in the ashy city.
I am thinking now
of grief, and of getting past it;

I feel my boots
trying to leave the ground,

I feel my heart
pumping hard. I want

to think again of dangerous and noble things.
I want to be light and frolicsome.
I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as though I had wings.

~Mary Oliver