The inward spiral -- Mother Night

"I feel a bit inward," she said. That was the best description I'd heard. A lot of folks I know feel that way this time of year. It's an effort to go out, to feel what everyone says you should feel. Who is a jolly old elf? Not you. Jingle bells and ho ho ho -- but somehow, there's sadness tinging everything.

Who isn't here this year? What didn't you do? What's that piece of the past you don't want to look at while lights are blinking on someone's holiday tree?  You think maybe if you can give enough gifts and find enough pine and spread enough tinsel and remember how to greet each of your friends without upsetting anyone over your getting their holiday by the wrong handle --then maybe you can laugh like you mean it and twinkle just a bit as you hang the wreaths and mistleto.

Ah... but this time of year...

It's the Mama time of year -- it's the inward season -- dance deosil, spin down into your own past and bring your own shadowchild up for air. Sit and rock the lonely one, the one lost on the edges of things not quite pulling together. It's the inward time of year.

In my tradition, we don't shun the night -- we welcome it. We dance it and dream it and sing it and sometimes sit with it and let our shadows dance. We're going to step across into the light of a Solstice morning reborn -- this is how Pagans do it -- how we shed the past and reach for a future, bright with promise.

One myth has a Holly King, God of the dark half of the year, dying on the longest night, so the God of the bright half of the year, the Oak King. can be born on Solstice morning and grow through the year until he is vanquished on the eve of Summer Solstice.

One myth has the Wild Hunt riding the skies like a roaring wind.

One myth has Mother Frigga, travailing in birth to bring forth the Bright God, Baldur.

Mother Earth, too, travails on Mother Night, to bring forth the new sun. After the longest night, the sun returns and days begin to grow longer.

So, we too, sit with our shadows until the light returns. We turn out the lights, turn off all machines that link us to the world out there, and go inward on Mother Night. At the end of our contemplation, we light a candle or the Yule log or the artificial lights on an evergreen tree and mimic the rising sun. How long does it take? A minute. An hour. A night. I'll leave the particulars to you as you take note of the inward spiral and then dance deosil into the light.

Following the seasons in their wisdom helps us in the wise growing of spirit. Being light always is unhealthy. There is a season for honoring our shadow selves. Just as the longest night breaks forth in new light, so our own light will come stronger than ever once we've dealt with the shadow.

There is a reason why some folks are sad and lonely this time of year -- we have forgotten how to grieve. We have repressed the shadow for so long, the shadow owns us and controls us. And in this season, the shadowchild, unclaimed, cries in the night for redemption. Not many of us remember that this is part of the inward spiral of the feminine part of the year. It is a time to go inward. This wisdom was lost to us as another way replaced the wisdom of the way our people knew long ago. The new way shunned all things feminine, including the feminine half of the year. There is a reason why the only holidays that made it into that foreign religion's practices are from the light half of the year -- the male half of the year.

Being light always is not balanced. It is not healthy. Shun the darkness and run from it and it will claim you. We've forgotten how to integrate our shadow selves and from this rich pool of wisdom, birth our bright spirits.

Take time to heal the brokenhearted parts of yourself. Allow yourself to grieve for what is gone. Allow yourself to feel what is there in the darkest of your nights. Sit alone in a room with the lights off and let yourself cry or sing a soul song or simply rock the child within. Then let the light be born. Light a candle and rise and stand and dance slowly, weave and move and rise like the sun.

This small ritual, perhaps done on Mother Night (December 21st), will put you in tune with the season. When the sun rises on December 22, so will your soul rise in power, warmer and brighter and full of the hope of coming Spring.