It’s Yule – in the pre-dawn on the eve of the Winter Solstice. We are in what my late mother-in-law used to refer to as “the dark days before Christmas”. And she wasn’t wrong.
Those of you who know me, know that I have always been affected by the seasons, and have suffered badly from Seasonal Affective Disorder for a long time. This year, however, I’ve finally given myself permission to feel a bit ‘down’ at this time – it’s the season for it, after all – it’s not a disorder. Our disorder is to be out of touch with nature – we are not supposed to feel like we did when it was summer, or to berate ourselves for having low energy. I have allowed myself to metaphorically sink into the leaf-mould… to reflect in the darkness, to meditate and to wait until the light returns. After all, as the saying goes, “It’s always darkest before the dawn”.
In my gentle, melancholic, meditative state, I am reminded that everything needs the darkness in order to grow; even in our daily, circadian rhythm we need darkness for sleep, for regeneration. Seeds need darkness for germination; and before our own birth, we exist in a world of darkness. For many, though, darkness is to be feared – darkness means death, and is therefore something to be avoided. This time each year, then, is a metaphorical closeness to death – no wonder we try to avoid it by pretending everything is fine and normal and by questioning our natural responses to the season so that we turn them into a ‘Disorder’… but it’s just the darkness before the dawn; there is always hope, and life.
Our ancestors practised rituals for the returning of the light on the Winter Solstice – the dawn of the new year – with fire and with candles, with bringing greenery into the house and with feasting. It’s no accident that the early Christians adopted this time to celebrate the arrival of their own ‘light’ – the birth of Jesus – and for those of Jewish faith it’s Hanukkah, with the kindling of eight lights; it just depends on your metaphor, because wherever there are people, there are celebrations of the light… Our ancient myths are there for a reason. After all, if we didn’t have darkness, there would be no joy in the return of light.
My good friend Ros, who knows how I feel at this time of year, bought me a book – ‘Wintering’ by Katherine May; it’s a lovely book – I read it in a day, and it chimed well with my own thoughts about the season, and validated them. I can recommend it for anyone who is feeling down at the moment, and feels like they shouldn’t be – it’s a book of hope – thank you for the thoughtful gift, Ros…
So what ideas am I germinating in the darkness of winter, you may ask? The answer is that I don’t know yet – I’m still just ‘allowing’, and waiting patiently for enlightenment. This year I am not forcing it; what will be, will be – no ‘New Year Resolutions’ until it’s time; as and when the inspiration germinates. For now, the ground is prepared and waiting… for sure, seeds have been sown – I just don’t know yet what will blossom – it’s enough to know that something will; because what’s meant for us won’t miss us. D after all, is also for Dharma.
So I’m wishing you all a Cool Yule/Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukkah/Joyous Festive Holiday of your choosing – right at this moment, I’m appreciating that dawn is now arriving and it’s nearly time for breakfast… tomorrow we’ll begin the celebrations to welcome the return of the light.
