Solstice: Honoring the Darkest Night and the Returning Light
The Solstice marks the longest night of the year—the moment when darkness reaches its fullest expression. And then, almost imperceptibly at first, the light begins to return. After the Solstice, the sun lingers a little longer in the sky each day, reminding us that even in the deepest dark, change is already underway.
For our ancestors, this turning point was sacred. Long before modern calendars and electric lights, people across cultures marked the Solstice by tending fires through the night, lighting candles, burning the Yule log—quite literally bringing light into the darkness. Roman and Greek traditions, among many others, honored this time with rituals, feasts, and communal gatherings. Over centuries, these observances evolved into many of the traditions we recognize today: evergreen trees brought indoors, gift-giving, shared meals, and time spent with loved ones.
Regardless of religious or spiritual affiliation, one truth remains constant: the ebb and flow of sunlight throughout the year. Where we live on the planet determines how dramatically we feel this shift—from the extremes of light and dark at the poles to the subtle steadiness near the equator. Yet everywhere on Earth, the wheel still turns.
The Solstice is a threshold. It marks the turning from darkness toward light, from contraction toward expansion. Symbolically, it invites us to pause and reflect—to sit with what has been, especially what has felt heavy, difficult, or unresolved.
This is a powerful time for letting go.
Letting go of habits, beliefs, and stories that no longer serve.
Releasing resentments, regrets, and expectations we’ve been carrying.
Clearing space—internally and externally—for new ways of being.
The darkest night asks us to be honest. To assess the year behind us with compassion. To name what we’re grateful for, to acknowledge what hurt, and to offer forgiveness—to others and to ourselves. And then, gently, to release it.
As the light slowly returns, we are invited to begin again—not in a rush, but with intention. To plant quiet seeds for the year ahead. New ideas. New adventures. New patterns that feel more aligned with who we are becoming.
The Solstice reminds us that darkness is not something to fear—it is part of the cycle. And within it lives the promise of renewal. When we allow ourselves to rest, release, and clear space, we make room for the light to return—both in the world around us and within our own lives.
In peace & light.
Kirsten
