Winter Solstice 2012

Winter Solstice 2012 - a reading (on YouTube)

Today is the winter solstice. This year, I know a number of people in transition, their lives full of change. For some, it is their first holiday without someone they care about. For others, it’s a time of new additions to their family. For a few, it is the first time since childhood that they might spend their holiday alone. As is every year, this has been one full of joy and sorrow.

A number of years ago I was talking with a counselor about the holidays. For me, the holidays have been a stressful time since I was a child. I only have a handful of good memories to look back and smile. More, they have just reinforced the patterns of my life and how it differs from the stereotypes our culture enshrines as normal.

Her advice? Create traditions of your own. Own the holidays in a way that makes you feel good, regardless of the expectations of those around you or society in general. I laughed. Karen and I had started doing that years earlier by lighting the house with only candles on the night of the Winter Solstice. No electric lights, no computers, no cooking after dark. The only exception we make is for the stereo to play Anonymous 4, a cappella medieval music that we find soothing. We reflect on the previous year as most people do on New Year’s Eve and think about what we want from the upcoming one. Sometimes, we share it with friends.

What started as a single night has become a 21-year tradition. Where I suggested marking the winter solstice, Karen has become more and more attached to it. This will be the first year we give each other nothing for Christmas, only a Solstice gift, only one. Don’t get me wrong, we buy gifts for other people and some things for ourselves this time of year. That is part of the society in which we were raised. Those are hard traditions to break. But as time has gone by, we both feel more and more detached from the official holiday, religious or secular.

People forget that the Christians co-opted a host of pagan symbols to celebrate the birth of their spiritual leader. Christmas trees, wreathes, stockings, Santa (or Father Christmas), Yule logs, tinsel, candy canes, holiday lights, even December 25, do not appear in their core mythology. Most originated in much older and richly varied traditions. Or maybe there was a lot more snow and reindeer in the Middle East a couple millennia ago than I thought.

Some people see that as a problem. I do not. Traditions change. We are not the same people we were two thousand years ago, just as each of us is a different person than we were two decades ago, or two days for that matter. We don’t have the same values or priorities. The pagans who converted to Christianity brought their own traditions to make their new religion seem at least familiar in order to integrate it into their lives. In synthesis, they laid claim to it. There is nothing wrong with that. Anyone who thinks there is might need to reread how the Christian New Testament changed almost all the traditions of the Old. Or examine how fervently the Celtic converts defended Christian traditions through some very dark times, at points keeping better records than Rome. Life is change. Only in death does it cease.

In medieval Europe, Christmas was a minor church feast. In fact, the church outlawed several traditions, like singing carols, as they could lead to dancing which might detract from the meaning of the day. Easter was their largest celebration. Candlemas (Imbolc) and Epiphany loomed large among a host of saints’ days throughout the year. With any hero that attains mythic status, their birthday becomes a convenient day to mark in remembrance, but their deeds are more important.

As are yours. Do what brings you joy. Give gifts, send cards, attend parties. Go to a movie and order Chinese takeout. Drink wine. Light candles. Sing and dance. Walk in a park. Play in the snow. Share your day or night with someone special, even if she’s only your cat. Bake something.

Both my sister and I remember a braided Christmas bread my mother (and then grandmother) used to bake. Independently, and with vastly different holiday traditions, we both make it this time of year. We both draw comfort from the memory of that childhood tradition. Sometimes, it is the smallest things that bring us joy. As we get older, we recognize that more.

Once again this year, we will light our candles on the longest night in celebration. Whatever your tradition, new or old, may your Solstice be warm and bright.


© 2012 Edward P. Morgan III