Solstice Day, Tiny Miracles
I love all the traditions surrounding the shortest day of the year. The winter solstice is hard for many, with less daylight than any other day in the other 364 surrounding it. It lives inside of cold, damp weather, and motivation to do yard work and housework seems to dwindle. But in this magical stretch of dark hours is a chance for us to attune our internal world to the cycles of our natural world.
Winter solstice celebrations were historically enjoyed for their focus on the warm and bright spots of joy in our lives, burning bright outside the darkness of the season. Big fires were built, harvest foods were prepared, wine was passed, and individuals gathered to share their gratitude for friends, neighbors, and gifts given by the earth.
Each year I host a winter solstice celebration, where we toast to the “return” of the sun. Recognizing the darkest day of the year as an important part of nature’s cycles, a day that symbolizes a complete circle, the laying to rest of what was, and the precipice of rebirth that is on the horizon, is grounding and keeps us connected to the earth we live on, the season we live in. This night, above all nights, is a reminder to be present, be intentional, value every minute of life as sacred, as a gift, as a moment that holds innate importance. Do not wish the long night away, do not set your desires for sunnier days. Be here. Be here now. Find the gifts in this restful season. It’s not the beginning of the calendar year, not yet, but it is the beginning of longer daylight hours that will grow plants tall and strong in the year to come, imbuing fruits, vegetables, and herbs with the ability to produce inside themselves small bits of plant magic, tiny miracles in the form of compounds that hold ancient, steady, calm, and strong healing power.
My apothecary cabinet is full of the dried lives of last season’s plants, and they are sustaining me for now. As I sip my cocktail with St. John’s Wort tincture, I’m reminded of the blinding sun-filled days when I harvested the dancing yellow flowers, my fingers stained red come evening, the smell of the wild dirt in the heat. The joy I felt that day is reflected differently now; now it’s the tiny miracles from Hypericum perforatum, the active chemicals like hypericin and hyperforin, that increase serotonin and dopamine in the brain. A powerful natural anti-depressant, and beautiful addition to wintertime drinks with its vibrant red hue. Brew it in some tea, or add the tincture to a cocktail like my recipe below.
Dance until you are out of breath while your community plays music around you. Play those strings and sing loud. Or sit by the fire and reflect on the circle that is closing. However you decide to celebrate the coming of the light, do so with your community, and hold a place in your heart for the blessings of the slowness, the stillness, the quiet of these darker days. It is only from this season that the next season comes alive.
Return of the Sun Cocktail
2 oz tequila1 oz triple sec1 oz fresh squeezed lime juice1 oz simple syrup (equal parts hot water and sugar, dissolved)2 oz coconut milk1 dropper-full of St. John’s Wort Tincturea sprinkle of pomegranate seeds to topAdd all ingredients to a bar shaker except pomegranate seeds. Shake briefly with ice, then strain over fresh ice into a glass. Garnish with pomegranate seeds.
Makes one cocktail.