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  • Writer's pictureSara Ault

Winter Nights by Gythia Catie Erickson


Autumn has officially started. The days are noticeably shorter. The nights are noticeably cooler. The trees are ablaze with the colors of Fall and the crunching of the fallen leaves underfoot has begun. All around us the world is dying. This was a time of drawing in close, of hearth and home and family. For our ancestors, this was not an Autumn festival, but a quiet Winter rite in which the female spirits were honored in a rite called Disirblót.

Today, Winter Nights is often seen as a death of the physical world, the world we can see, and the reawakening of the intangible. It is the world of high energy, of spirits. It is that deeper feeling and connection to the things we know to be there. This is the time we honor our Disir—our female ancestors. We remember that without our ancient mothers we could not be. They cared for the home and the hearth fires. They cared for their families. Our ancient mothers, with strength and determination, raised the next generation against odds we cannot really begin to fathom.

With the harvests finished, there is a quiet lull before we turn our minds to the hectic holiday season. Now is a good time to turn inward in introspection, and to self-improvement. It is also the time to meditate on things of a more spiritual nature. Connect to the energy that is always there.

Gythia Catie Erickson

cm.erickson@runestone.org

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