Merry Yule, Y'all!

I particularly enjoy this holiday (Yule, winter solstice or, my preference, Alban Arthan, which is Welsh for "light of winter"). Maybe it's the themes of light and darkness or maybe just the seasonal extreme from summer.

Since my partner and I are headed out of town today (the actual solstice), we had a simple ritual last night. That's right--"we"--he actually joined in again! I'm finding more and more that if I don't get defensive about his perceptions or worry too much about what he thinks, we both still enjoy the moment and connect.

Which ties into the theme of Alban Arthan: renewal.

We began by turning off all the lights in the house except for one lit candle on a table. I said a few words about renewal and the promise of the returning light. Then I honored the 4 directions "that power and radiance might enter our lives for the good of all beings." I like that phrase.

I asked for peace in each direction, lit one candle each and placed a quartz crystal next to each candle. Don't know why, it just felt right. Then I asked for peace across our entire world. We had a moment of silence and then I read this short piece I found online, which touched on renewal:

"Snow and ice have cooled our minds,
Cold winds have blown away our fertile thoughts,
Silent nights have stilled our tongues.
Like the bear, the fox and the toad,
Our creativity hibernates without the warmth of the sun.
Come to us now, inspiration, as the sun returns!
As the sun grows in strength,
So may the fire in our hearts!"

Next, we each talked about areas of our lives where we'd like to see some renewal or where we looked forward to a promise. My partner was concerned for his mother's health and his job situation. Me, I wished for renewed motivation in general. I also mentioned that I hoped for continued renewal in our relationship with one another.

Next I read something called the "Hymn of Promise," which I found in an old church bulletin. We took turns reading verses. It's a bit long for here, but essentially it describes things like winter, silence and death as opportunities for hidden things to emerge. And the last line goes:

"...unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see."

We had one last moment of silence and, in a nod to the returning sunlight, we went around the house turning on all the lights, the Christmas tree and other decorations, and the Christmas music.

Then we had some egg nog!