Time for the Winter Solstice to Heal Us All with its Magic

Some years ago, I was lucky enough to be standing inside  Newgrange. This 5,200 year old passage tomb located in the Boyne in Ireland is engraved with megalithic art and older than both Stonehenge and the Great Pyramids of Giza. 

We'd passed three alcoves as we moved through its interior which was lit by dim electric lamps. Suddenly, everything was black – we couldn't see our hands when we raised them to our faces. 

We waited. 

The tomb is engineered to be  aligned with the rising sun on the mornings around the Winter Solstice by a kind of stone tubing; a light box. This was a remarkable achievement so long ago, needing precise mathematical and astronomical measurements. 

After a few moments of being in total darkness a bright light shone onto the very back wall of the tomb. We all gasped and cried out in delight. It felt very real, despite it being the middle of May. This simulation of what actually happens in the depth of midwinter is something that makes up for the fact that the tomb is not big enough to accommodate all the people who would like to have that amazing experience at the winter solstice. It's a memory I will never forget. 

What it demonstrates, I think, very clearly, is that we are still those people, who can gasp and let out a cry of joy when there is light in the middle of winter. When the candles are lit, when the fairy lights twinkle, when the presents surround the tree which has been dragged in from the bare winter fields (or Tescos...), we know something magical and profound is happening.  

The solstice, and the festivals surrounding that darkest time, do bring us hope, joy and a feeling of peace. Perhaps that is because we understand, even in these centrally-heated times, how the return of the Sun's brightness and warmth affects us, pulling us out of feelings of depression or despair. It is the outward manifestation of Gaia herself, as the warming, lightening days presages renewed rising, budding and bursting, and she embarks on another cycle of growth. It is equally a manifestation for ourselves, the children of Gaia, as we sing carols, and eat too much, rekindle old friendships (at least through posting a card) and take joy in being with those closest to us. The Winter Festival, happening now for the Northern part of our world, is a joyful renewal of each individual life. 

Of course, this depends on circumstances: we take for granted  home, shelter, food, work and health, but not everyone has these things at this time. Grief and trauma can be triggered as the Earth goes through a  time of death and rebirth, a collective dark night of the soul. Places that are war-torn, or ravaged by an increasingly heating climate, are not enjoying the peace, joy and love most of us are part of. 

Taking time to practice your shamanic journeying can be difficult with so much going on. But even the simplest journey can allow you to have contact with your spirit guides, and animal allies, who are all compassionate spirits. If you do not have time to engage in a journey, why not walk out of your house; collect some greenery and breathe deeply in your local wildest areas. Allow Nature to take you right into the gentle beauty of the Earth.

People ask me if I celebrate Christmas, and I say, yes, in a way, I do, because these festivals of light are older than time –older than Newgrange – and they become, collectively, across the world, an act of ritual magic. 

Many, many people throughout the world celebrate this festival – whether for religious reasons or simply because they love it.  Children send letters to a kindly red and white spirit of winter, and reveal a magical transformation each time they tear off the paper to reveal their gift.  We all sit around the festive table, near a festive tree with a star or fairy or angel setting off this glittering cone. We pull crackers to make a bang, sending malevolent spirits flying far away, and toast each other, drawing benevolent otherworld beings towards us. We are more likely to write a cheque for a charity, allowing those 'giving' energies to flow around the family and outward into the wider community. 

If all of that isn't magic, I don't know what is. 

The Winter Solstice, and the midwinter festivals of so many different beliefs and cultures, give us that chance to practice wonderful transformational magic. And by doing that, there is hope that those who need to be healed, will be healed, and that those places which need healing will accept the heightened spiritual influences pouring down on us at this celebratory time. Let us all acknowledge the blessings of our lives and share them with each other.

Wishing you the gentle joy of the 

celebration of lights

that is the winter festival.

How can your Otherworld Spirit Guide Help You?.

"Mother" (c) Nataša Ilinčić

 She is tall, firmly built with dark, messy hair. There are fine lines around her mouth, which is almost always closed in a thin, foreboding line.  She wears a dark, flowing skirt, reaching to the ground, but above her waist, she is naked. She is nursing her child. She is always nursing her child to her breast –– for the first fifteen years that I knew her, and treasured out relationship, I hardly ever saw her without that child. A boy, with a blond head of curly hair. His eyes are blue, but more strangely, his body is golden. 

Isis with Horus
https://www.glencairnmuseum.org/newsletter/2020/11/12/
divine-mothers-power-and-protection

 She is my spirit guide. When I first asked her name, she told me; Esmerelda. When I asked the name of her babe, she told me to call him the Golden Boy.

I wonder what this symbolism meant to me at the time I met her, towards the end of the previous millennium. 

Goddesses who suckle babies are well-known and can represent abundance, nutrition, protection and love.  Isis is portrayed with Horus throughout  the ancient Egyptian period. She's become a powerful symbol of rebirth beloved of Ancient Egyptians, Romans and modern pagans alike.

The other suckling mother, is Mary, mother of Jesus, of course.  

I believe that Esmeralda is a highly evolved spiritual being, possibly as ancient as the early goddesses. Like all spirit guides, Esmeralda advises, nudges, and comforts. Like all spirit guides, she comes to help  me navigate my way through the otherworld, in order that I can use what I gain and learn once my eyes are open and I go about my life. My connection with her is  powerful and transformative for me; sometimes the things she says, or gives me or shows me can really make a difference to how I  experience my life.

I first met Esmeralda twenty-five years ago, in a shamanic journey.  At first, I found her rather daunting. Beginning to journey into the otherworld can feel intimidating or confusing for those who are just starting out, and it can take time to get to know and respect (and love) your spirit guide. At first, I would have to work hard to find her on a journey; I needed to creep past tigers or scale steep cliffs or work my way through underground caverns before she appeared. But once I came upon her –– sometimes quite unexpectedly –– she would offer what I needed. I learnt that, although she can be forbidding and stern, Esmeralda will always cared for me

 Nursing woman | Old Kingdom Egypt Giza

Once, I was journeying after finding myself in a difficult position in life; work was frustrating and everything in my family life seemed to be going round in circles. I was exhausted all the time. I journeyed with the intent of finding 'vigour' but by the time I finally found Rosmerta I felt completely bushed, even though I was, of course, simply lying on my sofa, with a scarf over my eyes. 

She came close to me, rested the Golden Boy on the grass beside us, and put her hands on either side of my head. Instantly, I fell asleep.  Possibly I slept for just four of five minutes; when I came back into myself, the drumming was still going and she was sitting on a rock, waiting for me. We spoke of life and of fear. Esmeralda's mouth is almost stationary when she talks, and her words form in my head. She reminded me that these feelings are the same for everyone; we don't share what we feel so deeply with each other. She reminded me of a previous journey I had taken some months before.

                      Nursing woman | Old Kingdom Egypt Giza

'You still have your Rods of Power'.

She was right; a journey into a strange building where I discovered these wand-like rods. I had forgotten about them, but I knew where I had hidden them, in my safe circle of trees, where I start each journey. I went to the bole of the biggest oak, and there they were. 

The Rod of Bran, who's head is buried at the Tower of London, which aids journeying

The Rod of Creation and wisdom, which is shaped from bone. 

The Rod of Hazel,  which can be used with any cauldron, and brings forth the power of my Muse 

The Power Rod, a wooden rod with a fork, which is stripped of bark and dipped in gold,  it is transformative, healing and turns drear to joy, so clearly the right rod for this occasion, where I felt completely spent with life and needing a bit of vigour. I pulled it out from the oak roots and raised it above my head and called out to the universe;

 PLEASE ENDOW MY SPIRIT WITH VITALITY!

PLEASE ENDOW MY BODY WITH STAMINA!

PLEASE ENDOW MY MIND WITH FORTITUDE!

And then I lay, quietly. In reality, I was on my sofa, but in my journey, I was on the cool grass of my tree-lined circle, allowing the power that had been outside my grasp only an hour earlier, while Esmeralda scooped up the Golden Boy and disappeared through the trees.