Six months ago, I told a story of Litha being destruction averted, because although it is easy to associate warmth with the very energy of life, it is important that we not be overwhelmed by it. [1] Yule, by contrast, is a celebration of life being created anew, and created again, even in the midst of cold and darkness. It is a time when re-creation leads, appropriately, to recreation.
People in temperate climates have a long, long history of celebrating the days when the sun seems to stand still, halting its northward journey and then turning southward again, promising longer days and an end to winter, even if it is a long way off. [2] Midwinter solstice heralds a fresh start, and the promise of the whole world coming back to life - not miraculously restored after just a few days, but gradually reborn through the more mundane magic of germination and gestation.
Of course, this isn't the only time of year we talk about new life coming into being, but it is one of the most poignant and symbolic times. I've seen so many rituals, both at Yule and other holidays, that speak to people's desire for rebirth in their everyday lives. It's easy to want a fresh start, a sudden and dramatic change - just like magic! - which will remove our obstacles and change our bad habits in one fell swoop. It's easy to create a ritual that panders to the most unexamined form of this yearning for a quick fix, to assure people that if they simply want it hard enough, or light enough candles, it will happen. Worst of all, it's too easy to let this devolve into the idea that the universe is a vast wish-granting machine, and that if you don't get what you want, either someone is out to get you or it's all your fault. A similar idea is at work in the secular custom of New Year's resolutions, and they are famously ineffective.
The natural world doesn't work that way. The sun doesn't suddenly spring back to its position at the height of summer - and it's a good thing, too, because that kind of transformation without transition would be incredibly traumatic. This is true for humans, too. Sudden changes and fresh starts do occur, but they're not always something to be yearned for, and they're seldom as easy as we would like to imagine. More often, rebirth is not an instantaneous process. Usually it arises not just from our wishing but from our working. New life and ways of life usually require that we make choices day after day, again and again, choosing anew and working in support of that choice.
We experience this in our relationships, too; they have to be nurtured on a regular basis. A marriage vow, for example, isn't something that magically forges a lasting, loving relationship between two people. It's choosing to live out that vow, again and again, choosing to love, to forgive, to be patient, that keeps the relationship alive, helps it be reborn day by day. It's not that every single choice, or word, or action has to be perfect, but that enough of them are good enough to tip the balance. It's not the making of the vow but the keeping of it that provides the warmth of love in the heart of the family, just as it's not the single moment of Yule but the gradual lengthening of days that warms the world for springtime.
This kind of gradual progress can be frustrating. The day after Yule isn't noticeably longer, and it's going to go on being cold for quite a while. In the face of that, it's important to celebrate the magical moments, like the days when the very sun stands still and then changes course. But often, our culture puts too much weight on the single moments, with unrealistic expectations leading to inevitable disappointments: the big dinner must be a time of jollity and familial love, the long-awaited present must be perfectly surprising and satisfying all at once, and so on.
Instead of trying to force Yule, or New Year's, or any other single moment, to give me instantaneous transformation, I try to follow the Sun's pattern. On this shortest day, I take time to pause, to stand still and just be present. Then, when I want to renew or re-create my life in some way, I do it gradually, gently, a little at a time. That kind of sustained rebirth, a daily, incremental newness of life, has a name: growth. Growth, and the precious knowledge that it continues, even in the cold and dark of winter, is what I celebrate in this season.
--Literata
People in temperate climates have a long, long history of celebrating the days when the sun seems to stand still, halting its northward journey and then turning southward again, promising longer days and an end to winter, even if it is a long way off. [2] Midwinter solstice heralds a fresh start, and the promise of the whole world coming back to life - not miraculously restored after just a few days, but gradually reborn through the more mundane magic of germination and gestation.
Of course, this isn't the only time of year we talk about new life coming into being, but it is one of the most poignant and symbolic times. I've seen so many rituals, both at Yule and other holidays, that speak to people's desire for rebirth in their everyday lives. It's easy to want a fresh start, a sudden and dramatic change - just like magic! - which will remove our obstacles and change our bad habits in one fell swoop. It's easy to create a ritual that panders to the most unexamined form of this yearning for a quick fix, to assure people that if they simply want it hard enough, or light enough candles, it will happen. Worst of all, it's too easy to let this devolve into the idea that the universe is a vast wish-granting machine, and that if you don't get what you want, either someone is out to get you or it's all your fault. A similar idea is at work in the secular custom of New Year's resolutions, and they are famously ineffective.
The natural world doesn't work that way. The sun doesn't suddenly spring back to its position at the height of summer - and it's a good thing, too, because that kind of transformation without transition would be incredibly traumatic. This is true for humans, too. Sudden changes and fresh starts do occur, but they're not always something to be yearned for, and they're seldom as easy as we would like to imagine. More often, rebirth is not an instantaneous process. Usually it arises not just from our wishing but from our working. New life and ways of life usually require that we make choices day after day, again and again, choosing anew and working in support of that choice.
We experience this in our relationships, too; they have to be nurtured on a regular basis. A marriage vow, for example, isn't something that magically forges a lasting, loving relationship between two people. It's choosing to live out that vow, again and again, choosing to love, to forgive, to be patient, that keeps the relationship alive, helps it be reborn day by day. It's not that every single choice, or word, or action has to be perfect, but that enough of them are good enough to tip the balance. It's not the making of the vow but the keeping of it that provides the warmth of love in the heart of the family, just as it's not the single moment of Yule but the gradual lengthening of days that warms the world for springtime.
This kind of gradual progress can be frustrating. The day after Yule isn't noticeably longer, and it's going to go on being cold for quite a while. In the face of that, it's important to celebrate the magical moments, like the days when the very sun stands still and then changes course. But often, our culture puts too much weight on the single moments, with unrealistic expectations leading to inevitable disappointments: the big dinner must be a time of jollity and familial love, the long-awaited present must be perfectly surprising and satisfying all at once, and so on.
Instead of trying to force Yule, or New Year's, or any other single moment, to give me instantaneous transformation, I try to follow the Sun's pattern. On this shortest day, I take time to pause, to stand still and just be present. Then, when I want to renew or re-create my life in some way, I do it gradually, gently, a little at a time. That kind of sustained rebirth, a daily, incremental newness of life, has a name: growth. Growth, and the precious knowledge that it continues, even in the cold and dark of winter, is what I celebrate in this season.
--Literata
[1] At this time, the Northern Hemisphere is approaching the winter solstice, while the Southern Hemisphere is approaching Litha, or summer solstice.↩
[2] Solstice comes from the roots "sol," meaning sun, and "sistere," meaning to come to a stop. [Online Etymology Dictionary]↩
The Slacktiverse is a community blog. Content reflects the individual opinions of the contributors. We welcome disagreement in the comment threads, and invite anyone who wishes to present an alternative interpretation of a situation to write and submit a post.
Because of where I work (social studies publisher) I'm going to be pedantic and say that the current "correct" name is the December Solstice, thus avoiding the whole winter in the north, summer in the south thing.
Of course for local ritual time, call it the winter or summer solstice makes more sense.
Posted by: histrogeek | Dec 21, 2011 at 05:28 PM
Thanks, Literata. I really needed this today.
The relentless cloudy darkness and the stress of life with no money is wearing me down. I feel used up and broken. I'm not ready to start anything new. But I am ready, and eager, to pull off the road, break the old patterns, rest, and breathe, and plan to weave a new pattern.
These days between months and years (in the old system) are so necessary. We need to cut loose sometimes, before we burn out, and we need holiness and laughter.
Posted by: Lonespark | Dec 21, 2011 at 05:51 PM
This is particularly apt for me right now - I am making small incremental changes, having figured out that trying big sudden ones generally means a big sudden failure (at least, for me. Presumably it worked for someone, once, which is why people keep recommending them? Or maybe that's just how we think things ought to work..?)
I am planting seeds. Sitting quiet and listening to the snow. Waiting for the sun to shine, so the small important things can get about the business of growing.
And doing everything I can to make a good environment for them, too.
Thanks, Literata; I always enjoy your posts.
Posted by: Sixwing | Dec 21, 2011 at 06:14 PM
Well, histrogeek, we have observed several times previously in this series that the practice of Wicca is affected by where one lives, so I'm going to stick with the ritually-relevant term.
I'm glad, and you're welcome, Lonespark. I haven't been posting much lately because I have been dealing with mild illness and then a significant family situation for the last month and then some. I was speaking from the heart, and I'm very glad I spoke to someone else's as well. Things are getting better, and I have to stay with the gradual nature of that change.
I completely agree about the "time out of time" nature of the days between the years, and I will probably reflect on that in the future.
Hugs and joy in the midst of winter to all! Go well and be well, now and always.
Posted by: Literata | Dec 21, 2011 at 06:15 PM
I was reminded elsewhere that tomorrow was the winter solstice, and I immediately thought of these posts! Which is a roundabout way of saying that even if I am not a Wiccan, these posts have been an interesting feature of (I suppose, thinking about it) the last year, and I am really happy that they are being made. Thank you!
It also happens to be a bit relevant to me because I do need a bit of a rebirth in my life right now, but again it seems to be a little thing that's needed, not a big thing. So this came along at just the right moment for me.
Posted by: truth is life | Dec 21, 2011 at 07:08 PM
We had a lovely winter solstice UU service. I did one of the choral-reading parts and did not freak out once. *very proud*
A similar idea is at work in the secular custom of New Year's resolutions, and they are famously ineffective.
Sometimes they work. Admittedly, the only resolution I've ever successfully kept for more than a month is the 'keep track of my periods' one--kept that for six years now, and one of my resolutions for 2012 needs to be 'get on the damn Pill already' because my cycle is so bloody irregular--but sometimes they work.
Posted by: MercuryBlue | Dec 21, 2011 at 08:55 PM
Happy
E, everyone!
Posted by: Raj | Dec 21, 2011 at 09:27 PM
It's not that every single choice, or word, or action has to be perfect, but that enough of them are good enough to tip the balance.
This. This indeed.
I really needed a reminder of that right now. I'm all too familiar with the expectation* that getting married (or making a resolution or whatever) should instantly and automatically make your life entirely change, and then it should permanently stay at the new level without any effort.
And of course if the change is not instant, or even if you have to put any work into maintaining it, then you must not have really meant it, and therefore are a bad person, so you might as well not try.** Sheesh. I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels this, either.
Most of the time I see that expectation for the falsehood it is and don't get swept away by it, but in my darker moments it's easy to lose my perspective so I'm very glad for reminders like this.
That's the lesson I try to take from this time of year: change does come, but not all at once, and not without effort and setbacks. Things may even get worse before they get better, just as the weather will still get colder after the Solstice. Spring comes slowly, and sometimes we miss the signs of its appearance, but it does come. And most of all, even though another winter will eventually come, so will another spring.
Thanks, Literata!
* almost completely self-imposed, in my particular case.
** this applies just as much to changing the expectation itself as to any outward change. As though seeing the expectation for what it is means that I should be instantly, permanently, and effortlessly free of it. Required to be perfect at not requiring perfection? Yeah, right.
*** and I've now been editing this post for nearly an hour, while cursing myself for a bad writer because it didn't come out perfectly in a thirty-second blur of typing. Heh. So it goes.
Posted by: J. Random Scribbler | Dec 21, 2011 at 09:35 PM
What a lovely series this is. And very wise advice in this season.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Dec 22, 2011 at 01:11 AM
I don't make New Year's resolutions, I make a list of goals I accomplished during the year that is ending. I get a lot of non-resolutions done that way.
Posted by: Coleslaw | Dec 22, 2011 at 01:22 AM
Thanks for this, Literata. It puts in words some ideas and thoughts I've been trying, unsuccessfully, to organize into something coherent. I certainly enjoy this time of year, though I don't celebrate any religious traditions. There's plenty of satisfaction in finding just the right gift, the perfect recipe, thinking of just the right thing to write on a holiday card. But in the long run, those things aren't really sustainable. They're one-offs, can take as much energy as they give back, and can be all too dependent on serendipity and things beyond our control.
What matters more is getting the ordinary, day-to-day stuff right, or at least good enough to get by on.
Posted by: Dorothy | Dec 22, 2011 at 10:54 AM
I hope this isn't taken as a threadjack. It sort of belongs in the holiday thread, but I have become increasingly concious of my Yule Tide Celebrator Privilege and the number of my posts compared with everyone else's...
A big thing I hate about USian Cultural Christmas is how much it shames the poor. So there's plenty of shaming for people who reject the consumerism, too, but that's easier to take because it's a choice.
My liberal Christian parents, while not rich, were explicitly nonmaterialistic but comfortable. They keep harping on me not to buy them gifts and to reconsider the amount we give the kids. Presents for young children mean a lot to my husband, in part because of all the years his family couldn't afford them. So I guess my parents think they are just trying to help us keep sight of healthy values, but it feels like they're saying, "We lend you lots of money for childcare and clothes and don't charge you for rent. The least you could do is not spend it on stupid action figures." I kind of just want to hide in a hole all vacation.
"A gift for a gift" is huge for most Heathens. On another board was being snarky and saying unrequited gifts "make Baby Baldur cry or something." My parents want to give us stuff and we need stuff. But not being able to eaily return it makes it feel more like a debt.
Posted by: Lonespark | Dec 22, 2011 at 12:33 PM
This post reminds me of the quote from the Doctor Who Christmas Carol episode, about being "half way out of the dark". It was a fun/silly episode, but that line had the same kind of lovely resonance as your post does.
My parents want to give us stuff and we need stuff. But not being able to eaily return it makes it feel more like a debt.
That sucks - I'm sorry to hear that. A gift should be presented with no strings attached, ever. The person should feel free to do with it as he or she likes. That's exactly what makes it a gift.
Posted by: storiteller | Dec 22, 2011 at 01:48 PM
The person should feel free to do with it as he or she likes.
I wonder if Lonespark meant "return it" more in the sense of "return the favor" ? That's how I read it in context. And I know exactly what she means. I've been on both sides of that equation and yeah, it does give me feeling like the universe is out of balance or something.
Posted by: Dorothy | Dec 22, 2011 at 03:56 PM
Yes, what Dorothy said. I'm a mess of unclear expression and typos this week.
Posted by: Lonespark | Dec 22, 2011 at 04:18 PM
Dorothy: I've been on both sides of that equation and yeah, it does give me feeling like the universe is out of balance or something.
That's an adult view of presents, I think. I still struggle to grasp the point of gift occasions that don't leave you with more than you started off with. We've been easing into it. (This Hanukkah, I receive presents six nights in eight, but give them only two* nights. (There's also two nights where we get a present for the family to share.)) Eventually I'll either figure out why it's worth it or stop doing the whole present thing. (Or a mixture of the two, like tonight.)
*Tonight is the second of those two, when we all cook for each other. I just spent two hours preparing Mom's dinner. Hopefully it'll be worth it. At least it's just the one: Dad agreed for us to make easy things for each other and Brother agreed to give the gift of not having to make gifts.
Posted by: Brin | Dec 22, 2011 at 04:23 PM
...
As a child, gift-exchanges were a win if I came out ahead.
...
As a bachelor and a student, gift-exchanges were a win if I broke even.
...
As a professional, a husband, and a father, gift-exchanges are only a win if I give better than I get.
Posted by: Ross | Dec 22, 2011 at 04:50 PM
(Lonespark) If baby Baldur is that mean, he can go chew on a mistletoe teething ring. With your parents, that's harder, but still not your fault. Discussions about such things are notoriously difficult, so rather than advice, I'll just give you hugs.
Posted by: Literata | Dec 22, 2011 at 04:58 PM
I wonder if Lonespark meant "return it" more in the sense of "return the favor" ? That's how I read it in context. And I know exactly what she means. I've been on both sides of that equation and yeah, it does give me feeling like the universe is out of balance or something.
I meant it both in the "return it to the store" manner and the emotional manner. They shouldn't be guilt-tripping you for buying your children presents or for not giving them presents. If you just feel guilty by yourself...well, that kind of sucks too.
Posted by: storiteller | Dec 22, 2011 at 05:30 PM
No, they're guilt-tripping me for buying them presents, or wanting to. Because I am insufficiently enlightened and non-materialistic or something, why can't I just be happy with always getting my furniture out of the trash? It's almost a "don't get above your raising," thing when we have money, but now we don't so it gets to be "sensible budgeting" too.
"A gift for a gift" will not stop being holy or important to me just because they want it to. And I'm not talking about an exchange in equal quantities or equal units. It can be "I bought you a car and you bought me this cool action figure," or "I gave you hundreds of dollars and you cleaned out my cellar or wrote me a song." It's just that when it comes across more as "Stop trying to make me happy," or "Dammit, if it's a not handmade and full of blood and tears I don't want it," at times.
But now it's vacation and I'm feeling better about everything. Thanks for listening, Slacktipeeps!
Posted by: Lonespark | Dec 22, 2011 at 06:04 PM
Blood and tears would wreck my jewelry.
Posted by: MercuryBlue | Dec 22, 2011 at 06:36 PM
As a professional, a husband, and a father, gift-exchanges are only a win if I give better than I get.
Surely a win-win is the best situation to aim for, though? I'd hate to think my husband was concerned to outdo me in our gift exchange; that would mean his 'win' would depend on my losing.
Posted by: Kit Whitfield | Dec 22, 2011 at 07:29 PM
Literata, thank you for this - I needed the reminder that change can be slow, and painful, and effortful.
Posted by: syfr | Dec 22, 2011 at 08:32 PM
Literata, another lovely post. Thank you.
Posted by: Laiima | Dec 22, 2011 at 08:52 PM
Yes, Literata, a belated thanks for this.
And some
"Lines for Winter"
Poor muse, north wind, or any god
who blusters bleak across the lake
and sows the earth earth-deep with ice.
A hoar of fur stung across the vines:
here the leaves in full flush, here
abandoned to four and farther winds.
Bless us, any god who crabs the apples
and seeds the leaf and needle evergreen.
What whispered catastrophe, winter.
What a long night, beyond the lamplight,
the windows and the frost-ferned glass.
Bless the traveler and the hearth he travels to.
Bless our rough hands, wind-scabbed lips,
bless this our miscreant psalm.
- Dave Lucas
Posted by: Amaryllis | Dec 23, 2011 at 04:34 PM
Gifts can be really fraught. My parents and siblings and I decided several years ago that we would draw names each year and each person would give a gift to just one other, plus to the three children. It's made things ever so much calmer around the holidays. We also sometimes do the "I have donated in your name to Charity X" with thoughtfully selected charities. I think these things help remove the social stress and let us focus on enjoying each others' company.
My husband and I would not generally give each other gifts for Christmas or birthdays--if one of us wants something and we can afford it we just get it, and if we can't afford it, it wouldn't be an appropriate present--but we have to model appropriate gift giving and receiving for our son, so we are doing it now.
Ye gods, though, I am going to want a ritual purification for Yule. My dojo does a cold-water ritual for (Japanese) New Year's: that should be about right. Nothing like 45 degree water (and 35 degree air) to get your mind off Greedmas.
Posted by: MaryKaye | Dec 24, 2011 at 03:17 PM