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“We can allow the prickle of dissatisfaction rise in us. That’s exactly how we’re supposed to feel. This is the place where change happens, where a skin is shed and a new one grown. This is the cauldron in which the next life is brewed like a potion.”

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What a fabulous email: kind. Inspiring, warm and gently illuminating. I agree, the internet can be a force for good. xh

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As a northerner, this is a gorgeous kind of knowing. Grateful.

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All of this: beautiful. You have made me think of the solstice in a different way, and for that, among other things, I am grateful. My beloved grandmother likened it to turning off the inside lights (oddly), pulling the bedclothes back, getting in, and not getting out until the days grow noticeably longer. Key word being: noticeably. For me, it begins on the 22nd, and I watch and wait for it to happen. Thank you, as always. x

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Returning here to re-read this, which is beautiful, and to say I didn’t know about the sun standing still—the longer pause. You’ve invited me to inhabit this time differently and I’m grateful.



I admit I mourn the passing of the solstice a little. I feel permission to rest and retreat when the days are shorter, less pressure to cope in all the ways I think I should when the light returns. I take comfort in early to midwinter rituals and fairy lights—it all feels like a soft landing place. There’s a stark, empty quality to the late winter months that feels harder to me. I’m reminded of your interview with Philip Carr-Gomm in Wintering about the Druid eightfold Wheel of the Year: maybe part of what I feel is the long gap between festivals in the mainstream cultural calendar after this period.

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