Otherways- Fiction Fanatics

I’m very fond of Christmas, but it really isn’t my favorite holiday. To tell the truth, except for the flood of sappy and entirely satisfying romance novels that come out at Christmas, I’d have to say it ranks a distant third behind Halloween and the Winter Solstice.

Halloween is the best excuse ever to dress up, tell ghost stories, and watch horror movies, all of which make it pretty awesome in my estimation. It doesn’t hurt for me that both my husband and my son have birthdays in that month, so to me this is the most festive time of the year.

Then, there’s the Solstice.

I know, most people don’t count the Winter Solstice as a holiday, but I do. Heck, half the world probably doesn’t even know the date.

For what it’s worth, the date is December 21st, and it goes by a lot of other names, including Longnight.

You see, the solstice is the time of year when the days cease getting shorter, and swing back towards slowly lengthening again. Naturally, this isn’t going to be obvious on day one, but it means we’re heading back towards spring.

For me, as it was for our ancestors, this is a huge thing. I don’t have to wonder if the food I harvested will last my family through the long winter, and I have satellite information and global warming to reassure me that the world won’t be plunged into everlasting winter, but I still rejoice every solstice.

Part of the reason is that I truly feel like I am solar powered. In the winter, even in a mild winter such as we’ve had this year, there simply isn’t enough sunshine to keep me moving. The real reason, though, is quite a bit deeper than that.

Traditionally, winter is a time of reflection. Cold, darkness, and weather forced our ancestors indoors, leaving them to concentrate on carving, or weaving, or similar creative activities. Winter is the time for evaluating the year you’ve had, and yourself, and planning the year to come. It is a time for introspection, for burying the past, and for creating something new and beautiful.

Solstice then, is a promise. It is a promise that the pain that winter brings, both on a physical and a metaphysical level, will end. Spring will come again, and with it energy and growth. Plans made in the dark months will have an opportunity to come into the light.

I don’t know about anyone else, but that is a promise I need to hear. It’s the reminder that regardless of how good or bad the year has been, a new year will take its place.

So even while I hang stockings, and trim the tree, my eye is on the calendar, counting down to that special day, the day when we head back into the light.

Cheers,

Michelle