It is the time of year in the Northern Hemisphere when we are in our most darkest days and, appropriately, often surrounded with lights.
It’s a time of food, reflection, and rest among the bustle of more modern trappings of the holidays and year-end commitments.
We are part of the seasons, whether we’ve designed our lives to suit them or not. In the Northern climate, the rhythms of nature don’t care: it’s going to be darker, colder, and more conducive to slowing down whether we want it or not.
It’s what was once called the season of Yule.
Yule originated among Germanic and Norse peoples as a midwinter or solstice observance marked by feasting, drinking, and ritual offerings. Scholars connect it with the Old Norse festival jól, which likely involved toasts to gods and ancestors and celebrations of the lengthening days after the solstice. The festival was strongly associated with deities such as Odin, who bears the epithet Jólnir (“Yule one”), underscoring his role in the season’s myths and rites. In some interpretations, Yule may have included elements of a “day of the dead” or new‑year festival, linking the dark of winter to ideas of death, renewal, and the coming agricultural cycle. Because it fell at the coldest, darkest part of the year, Yule marked both danger and hope in agrarian societies. People celebrated the turning point after the solstice, when the sun’s light slowly increased and the earth was seen as preparing to become fertile again.
I find myself reflecting on the tensions between darkness and light, danger and hope, and spiritual and grounded perspectives on the season.
The darkness and long shadows during the day create space of beauty and distortion, that prompt us to pay attention. This is why this time of year is so rife with new beginnings, resolutions, plans, and tying things up. Our seasons inspire this.
Lean into this. Embrace it. Any day can be a new beginning. The pathways ahead are ours to shape.
Happy Holidays.
