Hello friends, I have another Muse Monday post to share with you today. I’m so excited about this one because my friend Melanie and I chose to write on the same topic and share our articles on each other’s blogs on the same day. So, I would love it if you could visit Melanie’s blog here to read my article about my Yuletide traditions as a witch when you are done reading Melanie’s article below. Thank you so much for your support. And please share some of your own Yuletide/Christmas/etc. traditions in a comment below, or as an email reply if you are a subscriber reading this from your inbox.
This is my last Muse Monday feature of 2023! It’s been a lot of fun featuring so many lovely, kindred spirits on my Substack this year and I can’t wait to continue this in 2024. So far, I have Muse Monday features planned through June of 2024. If you are interested in being featured from July on, please send me an email at caitgemmell@gmail.com with “Muse Monday Feature” as the subject and we can plan your post.
And now, let’s welcome Melanie!
The Whispering Bones of Winter
There is a certain new crispness to the air, I've noted of this particular seasonal shift. Perhaps it is the hymns of winter on my breath or the shadows of hibernation nudging me into rest as the solstice draws nigh. It may even be the Spirit-of-Winter itself, ushering me over its threshold that makes this particular seasonal shift so curiously meaningful. But I think not - at least not entirely, for it would be remiss of me to overlook the whispering bones of winter.
Let me explain.
As I grow older and more rooted in my desire to bask in the enchantment of the natural world and the magickal guidance of my bygone ancestors, I cleave unwaveringly and evermore to its rhythmic heartbeat. A heartbeat that beckons me to embody the pace of nature in the season of Yuletide. To value presence over presents. To release myself from the strongholds of commercialism and expectation, and from the customary blueprints of celebration. And to create deeper ancestral connections through seasonal traditions.
Somehow, though, my desire to forge my own seasonal path overwhelms me.
Between my wildlings and I, we are a kaleidoscope of culture - each with its own unique (and sometimes overlapping) ways of being at this time of the year. So, how do we choose? Do we have to choose? Which culture are we more drawn to? Is it a snub to our ancestors if we do forge our own seasonal path? And...before I know it, I find myself back on the holiday hamster wheel that I want so badly to remove myself from.
My greatest comfort, however, comes in the form of a caveat gifted to me in whispers so primal, it's relentless and beseeching fervor can be felt reverberating deep into my bones' marrow, in the threads of my DNA, and in the ancestral forests of my soul.
These are the whispering bones of my ancestors, and they come to calm the windstorms of my inner dialogue. Their collective solution? - to simply...be. That is all.
You see, just as nature undergoes cycles and seasons, so too will I. Season after season...year after year, this older-than-olde Wheel lives within my DNA; a legacy handed down in the bones of my ancestors. When they partnered with the seasons for the planting and harvesting of crops or used the seasonal shifts as signals to prepare for the long cold winters of their ancestral lands, this cycle became more than a mere guidepost. It became their seasonal compass requiring no acknowledgement, validation, or even awareness of it.
How can this be so? - you may ask. I shall tell you...because it is as true for you as it is for me.
In their beseeching whispers, my ancestors have served as my own internal compass, reminding me that whether we consciously acknowledge, validate, or have awareness of the ancient Wheel or not, our cells do. This holy mystery is innate and unmistakable in our desires to cleanse our homes of dust, debris, and clutter in certain seasons or go inward at others.
This, dear ones, is the way it has always been...and forever will be.
It is a gift from our Mother whose surname is Nature. Living within her womb connects us not only to her, but to the ways our ancestors adapted to and lived within her in diverse rhythms.
And, so, this Yuletide season, I will endeavour to forge my own path by releasing myself from obligation to be or do anything that creates disconnection from the natural wonders of this ancient Wheel.
It begins with succumbing not to familial and societal pressures of having a Christmas tree this year and, instead, to dressing our home with pinecones and tree branches, lighting a candle for ALL of our ancestors, and warming our bellies with rich hot chocolate..because it is easy, simple, and aligns with our values.
Thank you, Melanie, for this beautiful collaboration. You can see more of Melanie’s work on her website and Instagram, which I have linked below.
and Instagram
And you can read about my traditions here.
Lovely, Melanie. My family put up a tree this year, but are taking our time with minimal decorations instead of rushing to finish it. I think we’ll start this tradition: more greenery, less rush, less demanded adornment.