Winter Darkness: Dreaming the Year
“There is a current that runs through all life, and part of it is carried in darkness. That current energizes the potential for all that we may do… We are still part of the wild dark, of night in the woods; the spaces between stars are within us. And that silent darkness is a stillpoint that gives rise to our greatest creativity. One of the gifts of Winter Solstice is in the moment when we allow ourselves the stillness of within-time to visit the deep wells of those places.”
I wrote these words in 2018, sitting in a cabin surrounded by magical holly trees, as the full moon poured in through a small window. They still hold power for me now, in this very different time, as I attune to the sacred dark, wondering how to share my gifts, and where to learn from the gifts of others in the year to come. One way I do this is through daydreaming in stillness. Three herbs that I love can create a road to the inner self, and allow ideas for the future to bubble up from the cauldron of possibility. I work with them one at a time, not together, as their feeling and actions are very different. If you’d like to work with them, try starting with a quiet time in a space that you love, and sit with one that calls to you at the moment. You might want to have a way to record, or write nearby, to capture your thoughts.
Herbs for Winter Dreaming
Mugwort. Artemisia ludoviciana.
This herb is also a female ally, and digestive bitter and healer, and I can share more on those gifts at another time. Sacred to Artemis from which it takes its name, Mugwort is also known for it’s ability to foster dreams at night, and it can help us tap the well of creativity within us in the light of day, if we allow stillness. To work with Mugwort in this way, try censing or smudging a room with it, and sit quietly with a small cup of Mugwort tea. (A cold infusion will conserve the aromatics more, or hot is fine if you want the warmth.) Take little sips, sensing the herb as you focus on your hopes for the year to come. Pay attention to images, feelings and anything else that surfaces to be looked at and filed for future use. This might reflect inner work needed, or new inspiration — or both.
Reishi. Ganoderma lucidum (Lucidum: lucid; light. As in: To elucidate, clarify, bring to light.)
I don’t use a focus when working with Reishi. I just allow, and find that this ancient, wise mushroom brings clarity to something where it is needed — that I might not have even had on my mind. A dual extracted tincture is a preferred way to imbibe, and 5-15 drops are enough for inner work. This mushroom offers a subtle shift, bringing a softness and magical overlay to the world. Try this sitting by a fire, and just allow what is.
And then there is Holly. Holly. (Ilex opaca)
Of the many species of holly in North America, this is one that I know best, and it is native. Holly does something for me that I have not heard others speak of. For many decades, if I sit with a holly leaf or berry, I find gateways opening to better sense the life of the land around me. In the presence of Holly, I can more easily see or sense subtle shifts that might tell me about the health of the land, or the special energies of a region. With it’s prickly leaves and bird-nourishing berries (not for us — the berries will make you sick!), I more easily transcend barriers or boundaries between people, and between myself and the natural world. Holly Flower Essence is often used for fears that give rise to envy, helping us to cultivate a more compassionate heart. Though the leaves have been used in Native American practices, my preferred way of working with holly is to just sit with a tree, or leaf or berry. Try sitting in a meditative state with a little holly in your hand, and see what intuitions surface about the land around you, or a question you are pondering, or the year to come.
As ruler of the winter part of the year, holly’s evergreen leaves and bright berries speak of the hope of returning light, and fertility in spring. Yet for that to come, the seed must lie in darkness, carried in the womb of earth until warmth and longer days signal that it is time to grow. Holly teaches us of patience too, as her seeds may take up to three years to germinate. Even so with our own dreams, just because they do not come immediately to fruition, does not mean they will not blossom, in time.
"Winter Solstice and the cold weeks ahead call to us to plant the seeds of our tomorrows in the still darkness within us, letting them rest in the place of potential, while we nourish the soil that will give birth to our dreams. " — 2018
And when you’re finished reflecting, tell your stories! The ancestral stories of winter offer much to that nourishment, as do Artemisia, Reishi, and Holly, enjoyed in stillness. May this turn of the wheel bring you inspiration for the year to come, as you sit with these herbs of Winter Dreaming.
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