I only very recently started celebrating Christmas/Solstice – in doing so feel as though I have released a dormant little Elf. When you start celebrating Christmas when you’re 36, there is a LOT of ground to cover physically and emotionally. Because I don’t celebrate Christmas for the religious sentiments, I find myself leaning in to the pagan/solstice roots of the season.  I bought my first Christmas tree this year and I may have burst in to fits of crying hanging ornaments. It felt so amazing.

I love how Solstice celebrates the earth, the darkness and the light,  and sun’s celebratory return. I get overwhelmed thinking of my ancestors dancing and feasting because of celestial happenings that keep the earth in balance. I love how traditions have been passed down through the centuries. I love reading about the origins of Christmas and Solstice. From the  photographic place in my brain, everything looks beautiful, delightful, and delicious. I find myself enthralled by stark silhouetted trees, and twinkling lights everywhere. I obviously was not blind prior to celebrating Christmas, and there was a part of me that always yearned to celebrate. That part of me, the yearning heart part, has been let out like a kid on Christmas morning.

How do I plan on celebrating? I’m not sure exactly. I am  paving some kind of path, a path of new traditions and festivities- some make it up as we go along way of believing in the Season. The right words and phrases don’t fall out of my mouth properly( and that’s okay)  and I find myself crying over the littlest things( and that’s okay too) – Carolers at my door, kids stringing Christmas lights, holiday toasts, and children singing at Christmas concerts. Maybe everyone cries?

Thursday is Solstice, and so tomorrow evening marks the longest night of the year. Weather permitting we will build a fire and gather round. This to me is the roots. On Monday we will exchange gifts with each other. I’ve been baking cookies, and meeting up with friends. It all feels right.The end of a year always seems like something worth celebrating.  The end of this year especially, feels like some sort of strange accomplishment. It goes down for me with much contemplation, and bittersweet feelings. Maybe for you too.

Below are some moments that have stood out to me this month. Here’s what I’ve learned.

Lens blur and Christmas trees are like peanut butter and jelly to bread. They just go.

Gingerbread house dedication pays off.

A big tree in your home is joy.

Candles in the early morning hours are a lovely way to guide you through the morning darkness.

I will at the very least rent 300mm lens next year for the December Full Moon.

Real magic lives and breathes in the light and the darkness. It deserves to be honored.

Cheers friends, to however you celebrate the season. Wishing you peace in 2018.

Audrey