Celebrating the Solstice

Friday June 20th marks the summer solstice, the longest day of the year.  In Australia, New Zealand, and most of South America, it is the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year.  There they huddle before a warm fire at this solstice and celebrate the December solstice at the beach. Here in the Northwest quadrant of the globe, we have picnics and celebrate Fathers’ Day. Why Fathers’ Day? Perhaps because, inn Celtic mythology, the sun God is at the peak of his powers, even as the mother Goddess is pregnant with his child who will be born at the winter solstice. After the solstice, he begins a long descent into aging and death before being reborn in December.

The four sky holidays (equinoxes and solstices) are celebrated with bonfires—spring at dawn, summer at midday, autumn at dusk, winter at midnight.  Do these times of day remind you of Easter, (sunrise service), Fourth of July picnics (two weeks past the summer solstice), Trick or treat (five weeks past the fall equinox), and midnight mass (winter solstice)? If so, you have penetrated the Celtic roots of some of our non-biblical religious and secular customs of honoring the rhythm of the earth.

The ancient Celts, from whom many Americans trace their descent, observed eight evenly spaced holidays.  Solstices and equinoxes were dictated by the rotation of the earth around the sun, while the four cross-quarter holidays were earth-centered. Males were associated with sun and sky, women with moon and earth.

We modern humans are largely disconnected from these rhythms of earth and sky, with air-conditioned harvests and food from the grocery store that can be frozen or refrigerated.  We can eat blueberries and watermelon year-round even if it means shipping them long distance from Chile or other points far south. Change of clothing is one of the few acknowledgements we make of changing seasons as we swap coats and sweaters for t-shirts and bathing suits.

And yet the pull of the rhythm of the seasons is still strong. The urge to plant is evident in the spring, even if we are more often planting for beauty than for sustenance. Recreation moves outdoors in the warm summer months, while long winter nights are a time to huddle in front of the fireplace, alternating with snow sports in the short daytimes in more northern parts of the hemisphere.  We can try to insulate ourselves from nature, but we are in fact a part of nature and our bodies and hearts pulsate to its changes. We are also dependent on nature for all the resources that sustain us—food, and water, and electricity, and fossil fuels, metals and minerals,  plants and animals.

Each season brings us different gifts of both beauty and sustenance, challenge and opportunity.  If a single word unites these eight ancient holidays into a common thread, it should probably be gratitude.  Gratitude for rain and sun, soil and water, food and fuel, beauty and wonder. Eight chances to count your blessings and honor Mother Earth and Father Sky.  A joyous summer solstice to all my readers!

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Welcome Yule

A popular expression among some Christians is “Jesus is the reason for the season.” Yes, there is a connection, but The season is the reason why the choice was made to celebrate the unknown date of his birth at this particular time of year. Before Jesus, there was Saturnalia, and Diwali, and Hanukkah. The common thread is the holiday that falls this Saturday, December 21st, the winter solstice, known since ancient times as the festival of Yul or Yule. It celebrates the shortest day and the longest night of the year as the northern hemisphere turns away from the sun..
In Celtic and other traditions, the story goes something like this. The Sun God is born at Yul and grows to manhood. His companion through this travel in the Triune Goddess, maiden Bridgid, Mother Danu, and the crone, who has various names. He courts the maiden in spring, and she becomes pregnant with the sun god. At summer solstice the sun is a the peak of his powers and the goddess she is radiant with a child in her womb. The Sun God begins to decline and dies at the winter solstice even as a new sun god is born. The crone is renewed as the maiden, and the cycle begins again. Or at least, that’s ‘the mythical story that underlies the holidays that enable us to reconnect with he rhythms of the turning year.


Here is a solstice poem:
This ancient holiday
Marks ending and beginning


The seed is still beneath the earth
Preparing to emerge from its cocoon
At Imbolc or beyond.
Yule calls us to take rest in darkness
To hibernate, reflect, and be prepared
To bloom once more.
Let us not hasten through
These cold short days
Spring will come soon enough.
There is no spring without winter
To prepare us or rebirth.

A Joyful Yule!

Given my name (Mother Holle of the Celtic pagan tradition, midway between the maiden and the crone among the three Goddesses, and to whom the holly is sacred) I cannot fail to honor this holiday.  Two famous Christmas carols celebrate this holiday, Deck the Halls, with no mention of Jesus) and The Holly and the Ivy, which added some nativity language as an afterthought. It is one of many New Years at this time (although the official Celtic New Year was Samhain, November 1st).  It joins the ancient Roman holiday of Saturnalia and the 12 days of Christmas from Christmas Day to Three Kings on January 6th for a prolonged celebration of the lengthening of days, with warmer days eventually tagging in after. T be human, or even Mallal, is to be attuned to the seasons, to be both geocentric, and with an eye on the source of warmth and light that sustain us and all life, to be heliocentric as well.

Yule and Christmas alike have celebrations of feasting and dancing, music and greenery, family gatherings and community events. It is a time to express gratitude for the returning sun with generosity, offerings of food and other gifts to those in need. But there are two shadows that deserve to be acknowledged and honored.  One is the shadow, the darkness, in which roots and bulbs lie under the frosty ground gestating in preparation for the coming season or awakening and rebirth.  In the meantime, we humans tend to our own roots as we hunker down and try to stay warm.  Think of all the carols that celebrate that inwardness.  Let It Snow! White Christmas.  Blue Christmas. Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire.  I’ll Be Home for Christmas….

The other shadow is the sun, as earth absorbs more of its raise and the temperature rises, threatening agriculture, coastal areas, and other changes that make life on earth less sustainable for future generations and for all life, not just androcentric (also known as humans!). Christmas has become, over the years, a celebration of conspicuous consumption, in ways that are not good for sustainability.  A few years ago, my oldest daughter pressured me to make more of my gifts “consumables and experiences” as a way of not cluttering our lives and our space with more things to be used, discarded, or just clutter up our lives.  It has been a challenge.  Fewer gifts by drawing names among my three daughters, three sons-in-law, and four granddaughters. (And as of this year, one grandson-in-law.) I consider books consumable—once read, most of them can be passed on.  Edibles. Subscriptions.  Activities in lieu of gifts—movies, dining out, mini golf (it is, after all, South Carolina). Cookie baking for the girls, the gift of minor home repairs from sons-in-law.  

However you choose to make this holiday meaningful for yourself, your loved ones, your communities and the earth, may you have a Blessed Yule/Christmas/Saturnalia (if there are any ancient Romans life!), using this time of dormancy for reflection and renewal as we prepare for the longer days that lie ahead.