winter solstice and the invisible seasons

solstice came and passed.

in irish, it's called grianstad am gheimhridh and it means "to pause or stop the sun".

my childhood up in the pacific northwest was seasonal. it was cold, rainy, and muted. but just enough for the light to peek through. but it was not without a vibrance, the weather brought us gifts that felt ancient. incomparable sunsets, and daily marvels of nature were accepted as commonplace. grey skies made the earthly colors burst wide open. the evergreens and pines danced across the valley, blanketing the land like a duvet, even stretching up to freckle the tips of the cascades.

the forest was endless. and interwoven with our modern lives. it was a green effervescence for as far as the eye could see.

whenever i would go to visit my family in derry, i was flown across the world to visit another magical, rainy, ancient green place. washington state is similar to northern ireland more ways than one, for which i hope you’ll ponder on (rather than me telling you).

a winter in california is one that i have endured, rather than looked forward to.

as i wrote this, the sun was still beaming down on the back of my neck, with an intensity that is devoid of seasonality. the sun is still overstimulating for me at times.

it wasn’t until i moved to california at age 13, that i realized i had a sensitivity to direct sunlight. for the first four years and even a long time after that, i was sneezing constantly. i later learned that is what happens. if you have a certain gene expression and are from a dark place. which, i am.

it may be that i have the opposite of seasonal depression that most californians have.

for me, there is something about this season that allows us to pause and gaze inward. it’s a metaphorical unknown — even our gregorian calendars are adjusted to account for this shift in how we spend our time.

to honor the irish calendar, i thought i’d research more into grianstad am gheimhridh. i found that ancient holy burial sites like new grange are architected to align with the morning of the solstice, when the last light shines through. and i realized, so does the crack in my front door this time of year.

in irish mythology, a battle that plays out in the otherworld every year.

leading up to solstice (grianstad am gheimhridh), the oak king (who represents the light) and the holly king (who represents the dark) would battle out for dominance. and like clockwork, each year the oak king would come out triumphant. it is said that this allows for light to slowly trickle back into our days.

this solstice, i put together a playlist, in hopes of capturing how this season animates an invisible part of my emotional world. listen if you’d like, or don’t! i don’t care!

late at night around solstice, i was talking to a friend while we sipped our tea in the dimmed light of the kitchen. we reflected on our different seasons of the heart — how long we’ve known each other and observations of changing of the seasons. not just nature, but individuals as well. we reflected on how we have shape-shifted over the years and months into the people we needed to become.

that conversation, and the next night after that, felt akin to this spoken passage by grian from fontaines d.c. — he describes this interplay of hopefulness & hopelessness which fills our lives to the brim with meaning. in his words, that’s romance. i believe that is what allows us to transform ourselves over and over. silently, slowly, yes. but surely, nonetheless.

@fontainesbandA view from a bridge. #fontainesdc @A View From A Bridge

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last night, after i came home from my dad’s christmas dinner, i read my book of irish blessings by john o’donohue (ó donnchadha).

i found this blessing for a new beginning, which i will use to close out this entry on solstice. i did cry a little when i read it.

there are things we do outgrow, inevitably. old ways we must leave behind us, if we want to carry on with our hearts. it’s a little painful, but it left me filled with hope.

In out-of-the-way places of the heart, 
Where your thoughts never think to wander, 
This beginning has been quietly forming, 
Waiting until you were ready to emerge. 

For a long time it has watched your desire, 
Feeling the emptiness growing inside you, 
Noticing how you willed yourself on, 
Still unable to leave what you had outgrown. 

It watched you play with the seduction of safety 
And the gray promises that sameness whispered, 
Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent, 
Wondered would you always live like this. 

Then the delight, when your courage kindled, 
And out you stepped onto new ground, 
Your eyes young again with energy and dream, 
A path of plenitude opening before you. 

Though your destination is not yet clear 
You can trust the promise of this opening; 
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning 
That is at one with your life's desire. 

Awaken your spirit to adventure; 
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk; 
Soon you will home in a new rhythm, 
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

until the next indefinite entry, i hope your winter holidays were filled with love and reflection.

warmly,

fi