The winter solstice has always meant for me a time of quiet and reflection, two things I strive for every day. However, I’m not always successful, and, since I often choose running from one end of the city after work to the other side of the bridge and back, I become tired and still. It’s in the beauty of stillness that introspection comes, and when that happens, I can see what’s there inside my heart, mind and body. The winter solstice also has meant for me a time of celebration (trust me, not because I fully enjoy the bitter cold), because it marks a new time, a fresh approach and a clean slate where, yes, you can see your breath in the air.
The winter solstice, also known as midwinter, marks the day with the shortest period of daylight and the longest night of the year. It occurs when one of the Earth’s poles has its maximum tilt away from the sun. It happens twice yearly, once each in the northern and the southern hemispheres. In doing my research on how other cultures honor the winter solstice, I found some interesting things to share.
• The Chinese celebration of the winter solstice, Dong Zhi (which means “Winter Arrives”), welcomes the return of longer days and the corresponding increase in positive energy in the year to come.
• On the longest night of the year, Iranians all over the world celebrate the triumph of Mithra, the sun god, over darkness in the ancient festival of Shab-e Yalda (“Night of Birth”). According to tradition, people gather together on the longest night of the year to protect each other from evil, burning fires to light their way through the darkness and performing charitable acts. Friends and family join in making wishes, feasting on nuts, pomegranates and other festive foods and reading poetry, especially the work of the 14th-century Persian poet Hafiz. Some stay awake all night to rejoice in the moment when the sun rises, banishing evil and announcing the arrival of goodness.
• For the Zuni, one of the Native American Pueblo peoples in western New Mexico, the winter solstice signifies the beginning of the year and is marked with a ceremonial dance called Shalako. After fasting, prayer and observing the rising and setting of the sun for several days before the solstice, the Pekwin (or “Sun Priest”) traditionally announces the exact moment of itiwanna, the rebirth of the sun, with a long, mournful call. With that signal, rejoicing and dancing begin, as 12 kachina clowns in elaborate masks dance along with the Shalako themselves—12-foot-high effigies with bird heads, seen as messengers from the gods. After four days of dancing, new dancers are chosen for the following year, and the yearly cycle begins again.
In my winter time of reflection, I see a woman-loving woman who has overcome many challenges in life, such as relying too much on others instead of looking within; I see a strong Latinx who is proud of her heritage and wears it proudly on her black sleeve; I see a Milwaukee native with mixed feelings about this city, yet claims it as her own; I see a lover who is kind and passionate, generous and true, physical and determined, still growing and evolving.
When I am with my friends, both LGBTQ and straight, it turns out that they, too, are on a quest for answers about love and relationships, what’s now, what’s next and what’s meant to be. I think we are all people who are striving—not simply surviving—for our best selves and the best possible life.
Take, for example, why I am currently single. I mean, I’ve been married to women before, I’ve had long-term lovers, and I’ve had one-night stands that became relationships that should’ve stayed one-night stands. I’ve had unrequited love, and I’ve had deep, unspoken, intimate, unconditional encounters. I’ve broken trust, and I’ve had my heart broken. I’ve avoided much-needed talks, and I’ve been in couples counseling. I’ve cheated, and I’ve been cheated on. I’ve loved, and love has been so good to me, and that’s the best feeling ever.
In fact, I do this thing every time I take a flight (yes, I’m very dramatic) as soon as I take my seat, and we are taking off: I look out the window or I close my eyes and give thanks to the Universe for my having been loved and given love in return. I do it every time without fail as I look back on women in my life and whisper, “Thank you for the good and the bad.”
It’s been two years since I’ve been in a relationship, and that in itself is a coup! I’ve wondered about a couple things: Am I blocking love by my current personal challenges (finances and weight), or is it that the right woman hasn’t come along yet? However, when she does it’ll be that “WHAM! I told you the right one would come along when you least expect it” kinda thing. I cry sometimes, because it does get lonely at certain times of the day, week or season; but I’m happy a good majority of the time, because I do have a full life that I’m utterly grateful for. My thing is, though, that I want to share all of this with someone special.
Wherever you find yourself in celebration and in reflection this winter solstice, I hope it brings you happiness and peace and the answers you are looking for as you begin the new season.
Love, Carmen
