The wolves are running...

Solstice day. Shortest day. Midwinter. The dark is at its height, the wolves are running, the shadows looming.
And what do we humans do when the dark gathers around us? We light fire. We retreat to our caves. We hang in there. We dream.

Sometimes this time of year can feel so hard. It can feel like everyone is out there, partying, playing, spending, smiling. And then it’s easy to beat yourself up if you’re not feeling like the life and soul of the party. Yet, hang about. Solstice, Christmas, Yule, was never originally about drunken bacchanalia – that was saved for the warmer festivals! Getting shit-faced is certainly one way of dealing with the dark, but it's not the only one.

You know, Christmas wasn’t always about marketing and hype; about stuffing your face and wrecking your credit cards. It wasn’t about rigid rituals and drear duty. Once upon a time, it was about getting through the dark days; about cosying up to the hearth; about celebrating the people we need to survive – not necessarily the people we like!

Yes, there are fights. Tell me about it. This week it seems like every evening ends on an argument. However hard you try, misunderstandings arise. But that’s part of Yuletide too. In the old days, Yule saw a ritualized combat between the King of the Waning Year and the King of the New Year (the Holly King and the Oak King). Two men would strip to the waist and fight with swords or bare hands while the women…drummed. And doubtless admired their muscles.  Rows and arguments are as natural a part of this season as the holly and the ivy.

For those who say bah humbug to the lot of it, it’s worth remembering that humans have celebrated this turning point of the year for millennia. Remember Mithra, the ancient god supposedly born in a cave at this time – surrounded by the zodiac (and attended by snake, bull, lion, dog). The concept of a god born in midwinter is common throughout ancient religions of the world. What is our Yule log but the World Tree, the Tree of Life. As far back as 2,000 BCE, the ancient Mesopotamians decorated trees with ribbons in honour of fertility and life.

I don’t really go to parties any more. I let the guys go down the pub alone. I prefer the fire-side. I love to sit with just the light of the flames, watching them jump and dance and flicker, see stories in their salamander colours; watch the shadows they throw up around the walls of my cave. Usually I sit in silence – for the sound of the fire is music enough, isn’t it?

What am I saying here? I dunno. Don’t beat yourself up if you don’t feel ‘Christmassy’? Don’t feel guilty if the thought of your relatives descending makes you want to murder? Ditch the idea of perfection because it don’t exist? Or maybe, just maybe, just stop for a moment or two in the hurly burly – listen to a flame (a candle if not a fire); breathe; just be.

I wish you a peaceful solstice, a merry Yule…light in your darkness. Love.




Oh and a couple of posts I've read recently on this theme - here and over here...