Yule Bunting

I'm finally caught up to where my Wheel of the Year buntings will be ready on each sabbat, if I maintain momentum. Meaning I can hang up the bunting that matches the day on the day itself, as I was able to do for Yule, and not some days later, as happened with the Autumn Equinox and Samhain.

This one was fun, particularly as I didn't want to make it too Christmas-forward or Hanukkah-lite. The primary color play reminds me of Nordic designs on some of these 13 little mandalas, which evokes a chilly north, which evokes winter and, by extension, Yule. Mission accomplished.

The Winter Solstice is possibly my favorite sabbat. As much as I love autumn and am learning to hate summer's brutal heat, I'm always stoked to be reminded that days are getting longer and things will start growing again soon. It's also nice to be given permission to rest in the meantime.

I'm lucky to be able to take time off from Christmas to New Year's Day. Work-wise, not much is happening internally or otherwise at this time, and it's a pain to try to work through the day when you know no one else is.

Energetically, I recall reading about a pause in the balance between night and day for a period following the solstice, so of course not much is happening (more research is needed, but I can't both actively blog and dive down a rabbit hole at the same time). I also recall reading this is a time of storytelling and repose in some cultures, which, if true, perfect justifies the twixt-holiday goblin mode wallowing I've been doing.

I've also been tidying my home and pursuing interests, to the point that I'm trying to figure out how to do just those things and not feed capitalism on an ongoing basis while still maintaining a good standard of living. Ha.

And this year has been a rough one, physically, personally, and professionally (never mind sociopolitically at home and abroad). This respite gives me time to lick my wounds and nurture my broken little body and soul that's been wrung through the wringer of burnout, familial stress, and the never-ending news cycle.

A friend knitted me an ornament depicting a dumpster on fire, emblazoned with the year 2020 to mark the spirit of the year in which it was crafted. How depressing that it could as easily read 2026.

Hopefully we all have more cozy moments and opportunities to pursue more meaningful and fulfilling livelihoods (or at least welcome distractions) in this new year.

Cheers.