Today is the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, and that’s very much on my mind. In pagan times, my Scandinavian ancestors, along with many cultures around the world, would celebrate this day, this return of the light, by decking their homes with greens and herbs, and keeping fires burning all night long. It was the symbolic death and rebirth of the sun, a time to feast before the long, cold winter to come.

For many years Dale and I have celebrated the solstice quietly and privately, just the two of us. We write our regrets on slips of paper, share them with each other, and then ignite them in the wood stove. We burn candles and toast to the return of the light with homemade glögg as we share our hopes and wishes for the year to come. This ritual feels particularly important in 2020, as we are more than ready for a fresh start, eager to release our own personal trauma as well as the trauma that has been engulfing our whole world.

A dear friend and mentor of mine, Heather Wood, recently shared how she celebrates Yul and I think her wisdom is something you all might find beneficial. These are her words, and I have her permission to share them.

Carry: what do I want to carry in to next year? What felt good? When I felt the most present and happy, what was I doing? Who was I with? Where was I? I’m going to carry those things in to next year.

Shift: what feels like it needs to evolve or change as it comes with me in to the next year? What’s not quite in alignment? What interactions or situations didn’t feel great? How can I shift those things to feel better next year?

Cut: what needs to be cut from my life? What felt toxic, brought me down, disrupted happy states? How do I cut it out of my life in a way that feels right?

In addition to our other rituals, I will spend some time today thinking about what I want to carry, shift, and cut on this solstice. I encourage you to do the same as you celebrate the return of the light. And don’t forget to go outside and look for the Christmas star just after sunset tonight; Jupiter and Saturn haven’t passed this close to each other in the night sky in nearly 800 years.

God Jul, my friends. God Jul.

I think a 5 day weekend deserves the return of a weekending post . . .

There was Thanksgiving, of course. We had a last minute change and dinner was just for Dale and I. It was actually special in a whole different way and we enjoyed the relaxed timeline that came with having only ourselves to consider.

I still made all the usual dishes and of course we had too much. But leftovers from this meal are the super bowl of leftovers and we wouldn’t want to miss out on that.

The obligatory food shot. Give me all the gravy.

We spent the bulk of the weekend at home. In fact, I didn’t leave the house from Tuesday evening until Sunday morning. Like many introverts, I was made to withstand a pandemic, friends.

While home we played cards and ate snacks.

We decorated for Christmas.

And we counted ourselves lucky to be able to be home.

I’m happy to tell you that the weather cooperated and we were able to get out last Sunday for a walk and some forest bathing.

A few weeks ago I spotted a sign for a trail behind the historical museum in a nearby town. We started there.

It’s a lovely little road paved with fallen trees.

And some buildings at the end, including this old blacksmith’s shop.

Also? Very short. Very very short. So we went on the search for someplace more . . . extensive . . . to walk. We wound up at a local Mass Wildlife spot and took a walk around some abandoned cranberry bogs.

The colors are gone and it’s mostly brown now but the winterberry was vibrant! It stood out in big patches across the fields and bogs and, while I tried to capture photos that really showed it, this one is the best I got.

The forecast is looking hopeful for this Sunday, too, and I’m already contemplating where we should go!