Navigating the Darkness of Winter
I’ve recently returned from a pilgrimage-type trip to Ireland (also known as Éire), where I spent nearly four weeks. I could go on and on about my time there and the gifts (na stórtha in Gaelic) and generosity of the land and people, but that’ll be for another time. What does feel important to share and very relevant to our climate and environments here on the West Coast of Canada, are some ways to work with the darkness of the upcoming season. Many Irish mythologies, stories, deities and land-based traditions centre around the cyclical nature of time and our innate relationship to the seasonal shifts that exist within the wheel. Right now is the time of Samhain (pronounced Sah-wenn) in Irish tradition; this period is closely connected to the agricultural time of death - and also a time of deep connection to the unseen world (other-world) and deceased loved ones. For many folks worldwide (and certainly within the culture where I spend my time) there’s been a severing, loss, theft and/or transition away from mythologies and practices that once sustained a ritualistic connection with the seasonal shifts. In my humble opinion, exposure to artificial light around the clock, fast-paced apps and interfaces, and encouragement to always be “doing” something leaves us in a state of over-stimulation and at a near handicap in knowing how to be still. We’re encouraged to seek the light, to pick up our phones 100000x per day, to buy something so we can validate our worth, and to always look forward.
Inadvertently or not, there’s a cultural fleeing away from stillness, darkness, and the shadowy nature of what lurks there. Let’s liken this darkness to what we call winter, and suppose it is necessary, powerful and inextricably linked to light, movement and change (summer). One necessitates the other, and neither is less nor more important. In Eithne Massey’s book “The Turning of the Year: Lore and Legends of the Irish Seasons” she shares:
The year begins with death. The light is dying. The sun in the sky is weaker, paler, its daily route through the heavens low and fleeting. Darkness has the upper hand.
Summer’s work is done and sleep is needed, even by the trees, which do not grow between October and February. Most seeds germinate better in the darkness, and the Celts recognised the need for the quiet time; their great days of celebration began in the gestating night, not at dawn; and so their year begins in the fertile, sleeping darkness, not in the light.
Do you remember a sense of relief near the beginning of Covid? Not for the fear or illness, but for the exhale of not having to adhere to the accelerated pace of societal expectation in our capitalist system*. What if that were possible to lean into each year? What if the slowing down, the rest and the cloak of darkness are necessary to keep the whole wheel of life turning?
* deep bow to essential workers who did not experience a slowing down; I see you, and thank you.
So what can we do? (Or do less of, in this case).
The following are all gentle and loving suggestions, and have been experienced by me, but not always consistently and never perfectly.
Practical Stuff:
Get an analog wrist watch from your local thrift store, and wear it
Get an old fashioned alarm clock
Alter the brightness and hue of your screens to be dimmer and warmer
Turn your phone on airplane mode at a certain time in the evening
Light candles or have soft/warm lighting in your bedroom
Try reading a book/journaling instead of watching a screen *especially* before bed
Try calling or visiting a friend instead of texting/voice noting
Have a nap or go to bed early
Write down your dreams in the morning - track them!
Drink herbal tea
When you’re tired, rest!
Practice somatic exercises (nervous system regulation, tuning into your body, ideally in a group setting, or in a forest)
Make soup
Last but not least, try engaging with any of the above items without taking a picture of them.
Practice going to bed early and sleeping in
Deeper/Longer Term Stuff:
Join or organize a local group that meets in person at least weekly (crafting, music, sports, discussion, whatever)
Get curious: where do your ancestors come from? What was their relationship to their lands? What happened for them in the winter time?
Invite in ritual - this can be around the moon’s cycle, an altar for your deceased loved ones, a song, or any of the rituals associated with your ancestral lineage… (I’ll write more about rituals another time)
A bean feasa (wise woman, pronounced Ban Fassa) I learned from in Ireland shared that we humans are likely so drawn in by tv and screens because for thousands of years we would have gathered around the fire pit together, gazing into its’ dancing flames and receiving wisdom. She also shared that our fingers and thumbs so easily send text messages/navigate our phones because there was a time when we would spin, weave, knit, and create with our hands together. If we follow the threads back, we can find answers to what we’re seeking - more often than not, it’s creating together, belonging and connection. Let us find these vestiges of creation, belonging and connection again. In the meantime, rest into the comforting cloak of darkness and show kindness to yourself and others.
We watch the darkness fall. There in the deep and wonderful darkness we find a deep and wonderful silence. Then, again, the music begins. Always, the music begins. - Eithne Massey from her book “The Turning of the Year: Lore and Legends of the Irish Seasons”