December 25th was, among other things, The Sol Invictus, the day Ancient Romans celebrated the Unconquerable Sun before the rise Christianity. I’m always struck by the idea that no matter what we believe, we seem hardwired to seek out our higher selves in the darkest months. Whether it’s the Unconquerable Sun, the victorious lights of Diwali, the menorah that burned eight days or the light in the stable where redemption touched the earth, we need this stuff. We don’t need it just because it’s comforting, we need it because it’s true.
We are also hardwired to rise up after a fall. So, when I see Stonehenge aligned with the Solstices, I don’t imagine dull Neolithic tribes cowering at the darkening sky or appeasing an angry god. I imagine, instead, a primordial knowledge that each of us has a higher self. There is an alternate version of each of us which comes out on the other side the of darkness stronger and more fully realized than we could have imagined.
There is a Soul Invictus for which dormancy was merely part of the plan. It will blossom again because it knows no different and it has nothing to fear.
“And yet the menace of the years finds, and shall find me, unafraid.”