A Winter Solstice Ritual

to get you through the longest night

The Solstice is almost here!

Between last minute deadlines and late night panic buying you might just let it pass without notice. Perhaps the birds departed without your farewells, maybe the final leaves fell without you to witness them. Did you even notice when you started getting up in the dark?

Time can seem homogenous, undifferentiated and relentless—especially from within our electric-lit, central-heated homes. The seasons blur together and we are expected to maintain the same pace until we crash into Christmas.

And don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas. When I saw my first Christmas tree this year I felt like falling to my knees and praying to it. For me, those trees symbolise safety and family and the happy childhood I wish everyone had. My secular British Christmas usually involves overindulgence, board games and American movies about someone they call Santa. It feels special, but not sacred.

This ritual is part of my personal seasonal practice. It’s designed to create a sweet moment of stillness before the festive chaos descends. I share it here hoping some of you will join me in my (until now) one woman mission to ensure the sun rises again on Solstice morn.

You Will Need

A large 20 hour candle or, if watching the sunset outside, a windproof lantern.

An object that represents the strength and guardianship of the sun (details below)

Cushions and/or a yoga mat (whatever you need to be comfortable on the floor)

A heavy blanket.

Some knowledge of the geological strata of your area (it’s just a google away)

A song that represents the sun to you (some suggestions here)

A warm festive beverage and snack (mulled wine and a mince pie are my go-tos!)

Meditative or relaxing music (optional)

Atmospheric festive incense (optional)

The Ritual

At Sunset

On Solstice Eve place an unlit candle in every room of your home then turn all the lights off. 

Either go out to a viewpoint or settle in front of a westerly window to watch the sunset. If you are alone this is a perfect time for reflective meditation or journaling. If you are with a friend, sharing poetry or chatting about the year past might feel right.

Here’s one of my favourite poems that captures my experience of many Winter Solstice sunsets watched from a particularly special hilltop.

Evening by Rainer Maria Rilke

The sky puts on the darkening blue coat

held for it by a row of ancient trees;

you watch: and the lands grow distant in your sight,

one journeying to heaven, one that falls;

and leave you, not at home in either one,

not quite so still and dark as the darkened houses,

not calling to eternity with the passion

of what becomes a star each night and rises;

and leave you (inexpressibly to unravel)

your life, with its immensity and fear,

so that, now bounded, now immeasurable

it is alternately stone in you and star.

As the last light leaves the sky, light your candle or lantern and hold it up to the horizon as if you were capturing the radiance of the sun in your little flame.

Leave your sun-object upon the windowsill or atop the hill to see out the longest night on your behalf. Possible objects could be a figurine, a painted stone or an origami lion… use your imagination. Something you can anthropomorphise is ideal, something homemade is perfect.

Wish your sun-object good luck and bid it farewell.

The Longest Night

Return home or leave your window seat and come down to the floor upon a blanket or yoga mat. Place your candle or lantern in front of you. Have your festive food and drink ready to consume. You may wish to play some gentle meditative music and burn some festive incense throughout this ritual.

Sitting comfortably, take a few minutes to admire your candle or lantern. Feel its heat on your hands and face and gently gaze with defocused eyes at the flickering flame.

When you are ready, turn your back on your candle. Mourn the light as you move into the deepening dark. Call to mind a few summer memories of time spent outside, the feeling of sun on your skin, ripe summer fruits, the smell of fresh cut grass, the vividness of the flora. Indulge in each memory for a moment immersing yourself in the remembered sensations, then let it go.

When you feel you are ready to enter the dark promise of winter, lay on your back and hug your knees to your chest. Cover yourself with a heavy blanket. Imagine yourself as a bulb of potentiality descending into the dark earth. Imagine moving through the layers of stone, soil, clay (using your knowledge of the local geology to enhance this visualisation) try to feel the texture and consistency of each layer as you sink through. Finally come to rest in a dark silent place.

Squeeze your knees as tightly as you possibly can and listen for a whisper of hope. An idea or feeling might come to you here that you may, if it feels right, attribute to the promise of the returning sun and your own potential for growth and exuberance.

When you’ve got your glimpse of hope and/or your arms are tired: Arise!

Throw off your blanket and press play on your sun song. Move. Stretch, dance, sway… let your body lead you and enjoy the feeling of being alive. 

Using the flame of your candle or lantern light the nearest candle to you, then move throughout the house lighting every candle until your whole home is illuminated with the light you captured from the setting sun. 

Enjoy your festive food and drink and spend the night either in peaceful reflection or wild partying depending on your mood but make sure the partying isn’t too wild as you’ll be getting up at dawn tomorrow. 

You may extinguish the candles throughout the home but it is important to keep the large candle or lantern alight all night. Keep it in a place of honour such as your mantelpiece. You are now the guardian of the absent sun’s light throughout the longest night. I’m not saying the sun won’t come up tomorrow if you let it go out but… I’m not not saying that either.

At Sunrise

Shortly before sunrise the next morning return to the viewpoint or window with your candle or lantern. Greet your sun object and thank it for keeping watch all night. If it has been damaged or has disappeared during its night vigil then consider it a valiant casualty of the night. If you are inside then relocate with your sun-object to an east facing window.

Wait and hope.

When the sun rises over the horizon, make some noise. Clap, whoop, play an instrument or otherwise express your joy and relief loudly. From today onwards the days will get longer, the sun will get stronger. You have a whole year of changes, growth and challenges ahead of you and we all have the sun to thank for even the possibility of life here on earth.

Raise your lantern or candle to the horizon and see its small light merge with the greater light of the sun. Then extinguish it, a new day has begun.

Take your sun object home and place it in a place of honour (maybe where your candle or lantern sat last night) to oversee your holiday celebrations.

Have a good one.

Ritual Recap

At Sunset

• Watch the sun set

• Light a candle or lantern

• Leave your sun-object to stand vigil

The Longest Night

• Gaze at the flame

• Turn your back on the light and remember the summer

• Curl up into a ball and imagine yourself as a seed descending

• Squeeze your knees tightly and find hope

• Arise! 

• Move

• Light candles throughout the house

• Eat, drink and be merry

At Sunrise

• Return to the place you watched sunrise

• Thank your sun-object

• As the sun rises extinguish your candle or lantern