Winter Solstice Reflections
Winter Solstice: A Yogic Pause Between Darkness and Light
On the winter solstice, we are invited to slow down, to accept, and to feel gratitude for what the year has offered. In yoga, this turning point reflects an inner shift—moving from outward effort toward inward awareness.
As I have shared in previous blogs, I am now living on the opposite side of the moor, moving from east to west and slowly finding my place. Any change of environment can unsettle us, whatever the reason for the move. We leave behind familiar spaces and routines. We question whether the practices that once grounded us will still be available. We step away from friends and communities who, even through brief weekly encounters, helped us feel held and seen.
This brings me to reflect on the sense of self.
Is it a feeling of belonging? Fulfilment? Being needed?
And are these experiences nourishing the heart—or simply feeding the ego?
In yoga, we are gently reminded that our true grounding does not come from achievement or recognition, but from awareness, breath, and presence. Do I need to keep striving to prove who I am? Or can I find contentment in what is already here?
The answer, for me, is yes—I can be content with where I am now.
I am learning to give my body time to adjust to this new environment. Time to feel the ground beneath my feet. Time for the nervous system to settle. I can sense this happening as fears begin to soften and new connections form. I am also realising that I haven’t moved far from where I was before. Old connections remain, and in some cases, they have been strengthened through change.
There are new spaces here too—new landscapes in which to continue the practices that bring ease to body and mind. Yoga teaches me that I do not need to constantly strive or define myself through effort. Instead, I am learning to meet each moment as it is, allowing experience to unfold without judgement.
At the winter solstice, the sun reaches its lowest point in the sky. Energetically, this is a time of yin—a season of stillness, rest, and deep listening. Although the landscape appears dormant, life is quietly gathering beneath the surface. From this darkness, light will slowly return.
The longest night invites us to honour darkness as part of the cycle. In yoga, darkness is not something to resist, but a space for integration and renewal. Each day after the solstice brings a subtle increase in light, reminding us that change does not need to be forceful to be meaningful.
In our fast-paced world, the solstice offers permission to slow down. To breathe more deeply. To turn inward. As the longest night arrives, may we allow ourselves to pause—trusting that even in stillness, our practice continues.