I welcome in the light.

In the dreary darkness, I have found myself in stillness. Not gasping for air, nor struggling to stay afloat - floating in fact. Embraced in the void, yet far from comfortable. The water that holds me bites, the cold aching deep in my bones.

I shiver. I remain.
Yes, I welcome in the light.

Slowly slowly the warmth will return, the waters will soften their bitter grip, and I’ll be forever changed. I can see a glimpse of the season to come out of the corner of my eye, there I am - born again in bursts of daffodil yellow. The light has returned but this stillness will not stir for some time, for winter has only just arrived at our doors.

I welcome in the light.

I find myself in limbo. Autumn gently drew me inward, shaking off the dead weight and broken promises - mirroring Mother, personal debris falling like flame leaves. A new space for creating has been forged but hangs there in waiting. I’m cocooned in this space in-between, between the old and the new without a tangible grasp on either.

I wait.
I welcome in the light.

Trees stark, bare. The wind coaxes me inside. Bundle me in blankets and put the kettle on. It is not time to disturb this seasonal slumber quite yet. I gift myself space and solitude. Hibernation is my soul food, and this bear isn’t ready to be poked. You’ll find me in the stillness, as dormant as the forest - until the snowdrops and crocuses shoot up and scatter the landscape.

With gratitude, I honour this solstice.

I welcome in the winter. I welcome in the light.