On the Shortest Day of the Year

The Winter Solstice is not a time for mourning, it’s a time for celebrating.

Think of it as Yoga for the Earth.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold.

Align chakras up from the magma at the center of the planet to the highest mountain peaks.

Most of the year we're breathing in. Or we're breathing out.

Twice a year, we hold. In the holding, magic can happen.

In the pause, anything's possible. All over the world.

The Druids knew this. So they celebrated the holding.

After months of losing light, we pause. And in the pause we reflect light outwards. And then we start the long, slow process of gaining light, building back towards a period of growth. It’s slow at first and the progress isn’t always obvious from day to day. We gather, we collect. Later we plant. And grow. Then harvest.

We stop and change course during the pauses. And that's where the rules are thrown out.

In Iceland, there’s a town in the Westfjords that is technically below the Arctic Circle, but they have darkness through January because the sun never gets very high in the sky and a local mountain keeps the town in shadowy darkness. They celebrate the Solstice there – and celebrate “Sunshine Day” in January with a pancake breakfast attended by all townspeople the first day the sun peeks over the mountains. They pause. And then they eat. Pancakes.

While others lament the shortest day of the year and wonder where their sun has gone, the Druids knew this as a special time.

So they’d pause.

Yoga for the Earth. Hold the position. Breathe in. Hold.


This is a time when your stars are aligned. So go into the world.

And make your own magic.