The Deep Season
Happy Winter Solstice! It's time to burn for what's ahead.
Every year, my photog friend Eliesa Johnson sends out bits of her work along with her Christmas card. Not everyone gets the same photo, I think, but each year it seems to fit a tone or a moment that holds you in place for the year past. I rotate them through a space on my wall. As I went to hang this year’s selection, and looked at what it was replacing, I now think maybe she’s casting forward and I hadn’t realized it.
The beautiful dark print on the left came at the end of 2024.
The inky black photo is maybe the darkest one she’s sent and there have been times this year that, in passing, I forgot there were even leaves within. It seemed, at some angles, to have that murky depth to which no light could land. But then you stop and look closely. You peer into the frame and see light has landed, on life. You get the sense that some of the quiet that darkness provides is perhaps the balanced moment things need to grow. The eye catches a scant outline of something edged with the faintest of shadow, and yet the mind fills in the rest of the unfurling leaf which is truly there, though it is yet to be fully seen. Regardless of the pitch, this is lush.
The bright and focused print on the right came at the end of 2025.
It has already caught me many times as I’ve passed, its sunny presentation warmly hugging my wall. I am invited into the abundance of fruit at this frame’s core, but it is given with restraint. We aren’t in a lusty overflowing copacabana of citrus and color, we are viewing a photo of a photo, or, a window to a window. There is still work required to peer into the landscape, to discern the provenance, but my friends: the window is open. The invitation is clear. Falling into this picture feels like a bidding, where as the last photo demanded only my witness.
I think EJ must be a lunar witch, because all of this makes sense to me in a very specific way.
According to the lunar New Year, we are exiting the Year of the Snake, which started on my birthday last year. It was meant to be a year of transformation, of shedding old habits in order to fit into new growth. Snake years lean heavily on introspection, rebirth and renewal, subtle power.
Discomfort, which so many seek to avoid, is part of this process. As your old skins tighten around you, you have to break free and leave things behind which seemed to be a very part of your identity. Loss, perhaps a bit of darkness, is required for new growth. I kinda quit my job this year, my youngest bebe became a self-supported adult, I got on planes to far off places trusting that all would not come undone, and I loosened my grip on who I thought I had to be for everyone else.
And now, in 2026 we are entering into Year of the Horse. Whereas the snake was all about the ending of cycles, the horse is about galloping forward. Energy and new beginnings are the hallmarks, and years under this animal have traditionally favored bold action, adventure, and ambitious goals. It encourages people to take risks, to lean into the picture, actively seek what’s in front of you, and trust your instincts.
Follow the fruit.
A Solstice Burn : 13 Nights
The 5am club will never count me as a member, because I measure my days by dusk instead of dawn. Somewhere I read that people who don’t go to bed early are part of the tribal tradition of the night watch. Maybe that’s why firelight, by candle or bon, feels like the completion of a day.
I HIGHLY encourage you to host your own burn party as the year turns. Gather some people, take stock, cleanse 2025 with fire (it deserves it, much like 2020 did.) See last year’s article below with good instructions to do just that.
But here on the winter solstice, there is another tradition. Welcome to the 13 Nights of Yule.
On this, the shortest and darkest day of the year, we honor the turning point that brings us back to the sun. It is the cosmic reset, what better time than now to clear a path.
Today, on 13 separate small pieces of paper, write down an intention (a fact not a wish) for yourself and your life in 2026. Fold them all up tight so that you can’t see what you’ve written, place them in a bowl or jar.
Starting tonight, after sundown, burn one randomly chosen piece of paper without looking at it or reading it. This doesn’t have to be a big ritual fire, just a match and a small pot (some of you reading have a burn pot and I know that because I gave you one xo), or a candle, what have you. The important part is the release.
Do this each night for 12 nights, choosing randomly, sending the message to the fire unseen.
Only on the 13th night, which should be January 2nd, should you read the last slip of paper. What you have burned before has been trusted to fate, this last intention is up to you, the one you should give your energy to as the year starts. Go.
Happy Solstice!
How to Burn the Year Clear
"Sometimes what’s dead must be burned away to make room for new life. Sometimes you just have to step back and let the brittle bits ignite - but once those flames begin to dance their caustic dance, don’t you dare look the other way. Don’t close your eyes.”
Galloping into 2026 alongside you sister! 🥰
I think the word for 2026 could be Giddyup!