There is a moment in eternity when the earth pauses momentarily in its orbit around the sun before it begins to tilt in the opposite direction. For those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, this is a beginning of the shift towards longer days, shorter nights.
It is time to welcome back the light.
It’s also a time to reflect, renew, and embrace the changing seasons. The Winter Solstice, the shortest day and longest night of the year, is more than just a mark on the calendar; it’s a moment of deep spiritual significance, a time to welcome the return of light into our lives.
Tomorrow, the Solstice heralds in the longest night and the promise of returning light. My heart is both heavy and hopeful. This year, the Solstice holds a special significance for me. Just a month ago, on November 24th, my beloved eldest sister passed away. Her absence has cast a long shadow, yet the approaching Solstice reminds me that even in the deepest darkness, light and love continue to flow.
This year, it feels like a tender metaphor for my own journey through grief. As the earth experiences its shortest day and longest night, I too have been navigating through my darkest hours, learning to find light in unexpected places.
In honor of my sister, and as a beacon for all who are walking through the shadows of loss, I offer this blessing:
"May the Winter Solstice envelop you in its loving light and profound joy. Even as the darkness lingers, let the promise of returning light open your heart, mind, and soul to the enchanting possibilities of life. May it serve as an invitation to dance in the radiant embrace of love that endures and transforms, even through grief."

my thoughts on solstice were: oh gooooood, now we get 2 more minutes of day – day after day – and before we’ll know it, not every moment of our lives will be black from waking up to going to bed! Beautifully described – and YES to your thoughts
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Those daily plus 2 minutes are so precious Kiki — the light here feels like it changes quickly — where it was dark until 8:30 around Christmas, already the difference is noticeable. Same as in the evening, 4:15 was getting even too dark to take Beau to the off-leash. Now, 5pm is my outside limit. π And I know the time hasn’t shifted by an hour — but I think my perception of it has widened, along with the lengthening days. π
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The absence of someone that is so final, and we get no say in the matter. There is just nothing that can be done to change what is. And our mind doesnβt like that.
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So very true Mancy. Our minds do not like that we cannot change what feels so final. β€
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absolutely beautiful
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Thank you Beth. Happy Solstice and Merry Christmas to you and yours. β€
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β€οΈπ
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Every Winter Solstice, I have to think of my husband and grandmother – both of whom died on the same day, five years apart.
Sending you much love, Louise.
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Oh Dale – I hope those memories and thoughts are full of the love and joy you shared and that your heart, though still achy I’m sure, is eased by your memories. The fact they died on the same day, five years apart, is quite astounding. β€
Sending you much love as well Dale.
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They really are, you know. Sure, there are moments, usually out of the blue, where I am suddenly teary-eyed but they don’t last overly long.
It is ironic they were on the same day. They loved each other and had a special relationship.
Thank you, Louise.
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