-
The Yule Log—A Winter Solstice Ritual
This year, the longest night of the year—Winter Solstice, or Yule—takes place on Thursday, December 21st. On the night of the Winter Solstice, an old tradition that we have adapted for Atheopagan purposes is the burning of the Yule log. Yule marks the moment in the year when the sun’s steady decline, with days growing shorter and shorter, comes to a halt, and the days begin to become longer again. The day the sun begins to return is celebrated by cultures throughout the world and going back far into prehistory; indeed, such archaeological marvels as the Newgrange passage burial in Ireland were constructed precisely so that they aligned with the sunrise…
-
Happy Yule!
May all of you enjoy a warm and nourishing Yule. May we all get through this darkest night feeling loved and safe. Wolcum Yule!
-
Yule: The Light in the Darkness
It’s a very dark one this year. And, as for our ancestors, it promises to become darker and colder still in January, after the celebrating is long over. Our Sabbaths are rich with meaning. And sometimes that meaning persists beyond a season. We are about to go through a very, very dark time. Some of our beloveds will not survive it. And though we must fight to defend every square inch of sacred ground that progress has attained, much we love will be lost. It’s going to be Yule for a long time. We must be the light in the darkness now. We much gather with those we love and…
-
Mulled Wine
It begins where the smoke hits your eyes: smouldering peat, Mutton stew on a broad iron hook, Deep snow. How can it ever have been summer? Apples wrinkling and mice in the barley— With so much to fear, thank fortune for company! We’ll tell our tales, remember how we passed the cold Last year, and that before. And those who couldn’t. The grape leans across The seasons, clasps the hand of summer’s Dried rind, dreaming the new fruit, Calling the sun back, World without end amen. —Mark Green
-
It Starts with Just One Thing
It’s a gunmetal grey day, portending welcome rain. The last of the autumn foliage is still evident, this being Northern California, and somehow it is calm and silent in our neighborhood despite the proximity to shopping districts. Today is the day I declare it: the season of Yule has begun. Usually, Thanksgiving is the transition: that’s the day I pull the Hallows decor from my Focus and replace it with holly and evergreen and sun symbols. But I’m a little late with the spirit of the thing this year; I wrote about that before. A part of the challenge is that we’re in a new place and still settling in.…
-
A Winter Spell
O cold, inexorable darkness Draw back now beyond these circling walls. Should fear, and want, and danger walk It shall not be, it is not here. Let this place of warming light Bulwark against freezing night: a promise Holding through the day that we, come nightfall May sleep safely, cozy, soundly in the soft Down drift of love and food and enough. Pass on, cold night. Howl your rages, Pelt your icy javelins. Blot the stars and Dance the barren trees in anger. But come not here. Pour upon the freezing ground Your brutal rain, but step Not one foot within this woolen nest. Have your time, o winter dark. But…
