Tag Archives: winter solstice

Christmas Lights

I’ve always loved and celebrated Christmas, even as a pantheist for the last fifteen years.  For me, it’s mostly about the lights and all they represent. I think even as a little girl, the beautiful Christmas lights were my favorite thing, long before I even knew about Winter Solstice.  I love the twinkling lights that adorn trees and buildings and rooftops, white like stars or multicolored that remind me of my childhood, the flickering candlelight accompanied by scents like Christmas cookie and orange/cranberry, the glow of a fire, and the dark winter skies filled with a million stars.  Light may guide me and warm me physically, but it also warms my heart, makes me feel hopeful, connected to the universe and nature, to all of life itself, trees and stars, my own memories and the ancients telling their stories, the changing of the seasons and the return of the sun to longer days, the time in winter to nest in my cozy home by a fire and a light-filled tree, knowing that one day spring will come again and sleeping life will awaken.  This season is a feast for all the senses, a time of hope and love, sharing and giving, family and friends, even reaching out to strangers, and maybe some of THAT light, too, that is told in the Christmas story and is born within our hearts, a story of birth and hope and love, will spread beyond us and our families and neighborhoods, spilling into next year and past geographical boundaries, and the world will be a kinder place. So I will celebrate Christmas and Winter Solstice with my family, even as the whole world celebrates as well, with love and music and food and gifts, in ways that have meaning for who I am today and the little girl I was a long time ago.   Now I also have two little granddaughters to see through their eyes the “magic” that is Christmas as a child. But for me, it’s still mostly about the light(s).


Copyright (c) 2016 by Raindrop Ridge Press

O Holy Night

Last night was the lunar eclipse.  Right off let me say I didn’t see it.  I tried. I went out early on and saw the big beautiful moon off and on between the thick wisps of clouds that were rolling in.  I looked a few more times, including once pretty late, around 3:15 a.m, after I had dozed off for a while, and by then it was all clouds and I couldn’t see anything.  But, regardless of that it was still an amazing experience for me.  The knowledge that the eclipse was happening and being viewed by people all over the place, combined with winter solstice, combined with the quiet peaceful beauty when I was out on my porch during the time I’d normally be sleeping, gave me a feeling once I had settled back into bed like I had when I was a kid on Christmas Eve.  I’d wake up every hour, knowing something amazing was going on while I tried to sleep, and part of it was happening in my living room but simultaneously all over the world,that expectant feeling, excitement, and happiness that you never forget.  Wow! I didn’t expect to feel that last night but what a joy!

Earlier I lit a candle for this season of light and turned the tree lights on.  This season for me is about birth, not just the story of one particular baby, but all beings, and the birth of light, physical light, knowledge and emotional opening up, the return of the sun to our days, a little more bit by bit, the birth of all life everywhere.  It kind of hit me like a ton of bricks that even though “O Holy Night” is usually reserved for the Christian viewpoint of this time of the year, really every night is and can be a holy night if I’ll just let it be so.  No, I didn’t see the eclipse, though I can see the beautiful photos by those who did, but know that I was sharing it with you anyway.  I’m so glad to know that those wonderful childhood feelings are still available to me if I’m open to them. One difference….no presents in my living room when I woke up this morning, just my sweet pets and the smell of coffee and the light of day, still very cloudy, but with the promise of unexpected treasures to come.  I feel different this morning.  I think I did get a gift after all.


 Copyright (c) 2010 by Raindrop Ridge Press