Turning Point

The time of darkness is past. The winter solstice brings the victory of light.

After a time of decay comes the turning point. The powerful light that has been banished returns. There is movement, but it is not brought about by force... the movement is natural, arising spontaneously. For this reason the transformation of the old becomes easy. The old is discarded and the new is introduced. Both measures accord with the time; therefore no harm results.

The idea of RETURN is based on the course of nature. The movement is cyclic, and the course completes itself. Therefore it is not necessary to hasten anything artificially. Everything comes of itself at the appointed time. This is the meaning of heaven and earth.

24. Fu / Return (The Turning Point)
The I Ching or Book of Changes

The I Ching states it more eloquently than I ever could. Tomorrow is Yule, one of the four truly pivotal points in the calendar year, and an observance crafted by the Old Wild Mother herself - Mama Gaia certainly knew what she was doing when she brewed up the equinoxes and the solstices in her wild elemental uncanny cauldron.

This is one of the two occasions on the Wheel of the year (along with Litha on June 21), when the sun seems to stand still for a brief interval - that is just what the word "solstice" means, that the sun is standing still.

Our northern days are short and dark and icy cold at this time of year, the earth silent and sleeping easy under her coverlet of snow and ice. There is a sense of movement in the landscape - to stand on the edge of the western field is to stand on the edge of a vast inland sea and watch as the winter wind carves billows and waves and moving tides across the snowbound expanses all the way to the dusky horizon.

Sunlight is a scarce quantity here in winter, and we are all looking forward to having a few more minutes of sunlight every single blessed day after tomorrow - until next June and the Summer Solstice when sunlight hours begin to wane once more. This is one of those times when one feels connected to the ancestors and their seasonal rites, for they too must have watched the winter skies and rejoiced in this poignant turning when the light returns.

Our own seasonal rites are small, quiet and of some years standing. There was a trip into the woods this morning in the icy cold, a brisk walk along the snowy trail with Yuletide gifts of grain, apples and fresh cut cedar for the deer, suet and seed for the birds. It was -30 degrees with the wind chill factored into the equation. We scrunched down to present a smaller target for the excoriating wind, and we kept moving - to stop was to freeze. On the way home, we delivered fruitcake (my great great grandmother's recipe) and small gifts to friends, and then it was back to the little blue house in the village for candlelight, firelight and mugs of tea. Tomorrow we will entertain silence and give thanks for the returning light.