The Winter Solstice is upon us next Tuesday. In this hemisphere, it will be the shortest day of the year with the greatest number of hours of darkness. We have a history of fearing such a time because our brains are wired to rely on vision which requires light.

This year, I encourage you not to rush through the solstice hours eagerly reaching for the days following which will gradually lengthen and remind us of the spring to come. The Winter Solstice has things to teach us.

We begin our existence in the darkness of the womb, and we are pushed rather violently into the cold light for our first harsh suck of air into our damp, sticky lungs. Let us remember the warm, restful darkness as we snuggle under the covers at night.

We live in a part of the world which is warm many days of the year, and often too warm. The sun shines too bright, burning and drying us out. The darkness is a cooling time, a respite from the hot light, a shelter from the withering rays of the sun.

Down in the earth, where it is cool and dark, water runs, animals burrow, and seeds wiggle and twist as roots come out and sprouts shoot upwards. Life begins in the dark.

May the darkness of the solstice comfort and restore you!

In wisdom and grace,

Rev. Ruth