This Sunday, 21st December, we reach the Winter Solstice. The longest night and the shortest day of the year. After the deep reflection of Samhain, the solstice feels like a quiet pause rather than a grand moment. A soft closing to the year, rather than a rush towards celebration.
This year has been deeply transitional for me. One that’s asked a lot emotionally, creatively, and practically. Like many small business owners and makers, the run-up to winter has been intense. Markets stacked closely together, long days, and that familiar seasonal pressure to keep going just a little bit longer. I even have one final weekend of markets, including one on the solstice itself. There’s something poignant about that, sharing my work on a day that traditionally invites rest, while feeling how ready my body is to slow down.
December can feel at odds with our natural rhythms. While the season encourages parties, socialising, and constant stimulation, nature is doing the opposite. As mammals, we’re designed to hunker down in winter. To eat, sleep, and conserve energy. No wonder so many of us feel stretched thin at this time of year.
Listening to the Call to Rest
The return of the light at the Winter Solstice is so subtle it’s almost imperceptible. There’s no sudden lift in energy or brightness, and that feels right to me. My nervous system doesn’t reset instantly either. It needs time, softness, and space. This season gives permission for that kind of rest.
January will be a time of genuine rest for me after these busy months. A chance to step back, recover, and let ideas quietly form beneath the surface. After years of pushing myself through external pressure and people pleasing, this feels especially important.
As a late diagnosed AuDHD person, the last couple of years have been about learning to listen to my nervous system. To understand what actually motivates me, rather than what I think should. I’m finally beginning to move through my work with less shame and more compassion. That shift alone feels like light returning.
Yule and Slow Celebration
Traditionally, Yule begins on the Winter Solstice and lasts for twelve days, carrying us through into early January. A long, gentle window for celebration, reflection, and rest. I love the idea that this season was never meant to be rushed. That there’s space to mark it slowly and mindfully, especially if the flashing lights and overconsumption of modern Christmas don’t quite align with your values.
This slower pace has been influencing my work too. My dainty frosted snowflake necklace and white snowflake stud earrings were designed to capture that quiet beauty of winter. Soft, pale, and understated. Little reminders of frost on windows and still mornings. And then there are my Christmas pudding earrings, playful and nostalgic, bringing a touch of warmth and humour to balance the stillness. Because winter can hold both gentleness and joy.
Ways to Honour the Winter Solstice
🕯️ Light candles
A simple flame to symbolise the sun’s return and the quiet hope of longer days ahead.
🔥 Seek warmth
Whether it’s a fire, a hot water bottle & blankets or switching to sipping warm drinks, allow yourself to receive warmth rather than push through the cold.
🌿 Bring nature indoors
Evergreens, pinecones, ivy, or winter berries make beautiful, grounding reminders of the season.
🛏️ Rest without guilt
Sleep more. Say no when you need to. Let your body do what it’s been asking for.
✍️ Reflect gently
Not with pressure or resolutions, but with curiosity. What supported you this year? What are you ready to leave behind?
The Winter Solstice doesn’t ask us to be productive or joyful. It asks us to be present. To trust that even in the deepest dark, something is slowly shifting. The light will return in its own time, and so will we.
However you choose to mark this turning of the year, I hope you’re able to meet it with softness, warmth, and permission to rest. May this solstice be a gentle ending, and the beginning of something quietly hopeful.
