Today traditionally marks the time to remove our Christmas decorations and pack them away for another year. Some folk stripped their homes of festive finery immediately the 25th had passed. Others, like me, will be keeping some of the greenery until the seasons move on and spring shows it has truly arrived, for it has always been believed that the spirits of the natural world took shelter in the evergreenery through the ‘dead’ winter months, and that humanity brought them inside to further protect them throughout the worst of the weather. (Old folk in Lancashire traditionally cooked their Shrove Tuesday pancakes over fires made from the holly which had decorated their houses since Christmas.)
Nor will I be removing all trace of other Midwinter finery from our rooms – rather it will be adapted and evolve from the kaleidoscope of deep jewel colours of Christmas into something more appropriate for January… white lights and silver decorations to reflect the ice and snow, but also lots of candles to bring the still-much-needed light into our homes and encourage us to keep our spirits up.
But what exactly do you pack away when you remove your Christmas decorations?
It strikes me that as well as the trees and trinklements, much of the care, the kindness, the willingness to reach out to others, the inclusivity, compassion and tolerance which is traditionally given freer rein around Midwinter is also removed and vanishes with the baubles and tinsel. Why? Are we humans so fearful of being thought weak that we can only give ourselves permission to be kind and considerate when the World recognises such behaviour as part of a spiritual/religious/folk tradition?
What truly makes the Midwinter festival so special to so many? During the Covid pandemic and the resulting lockdowns and isolation, it rapidly became apparent that it was human contact – families and friends being able to gather and spend time together – which meant most to the majority. Yes, we all lead busy lives, but surely we can aim to strike a better balance between busyness and quality time with loved ones. Not just those close to you, either, but to strangers in the street – it takes us no more time to smile or make a kindly remark in passing than it does to maintain a stony countenance in silence… but it does require an awareness of what and who is around us, and a heart sufficiently open to respond to them.
Think: the smile or casual friendly word you give to the person on the street, or in the shop or cafe, might be the only human contact that that person receives today… and it might be their lifeline.
Nor need we suddenly and peremptorily cease to come together, to gather, to spend some of our leisure time in activity together – whether that is simply relaxing with a warming drink while we chat, or playing games, or any other activity which we can indulge in within our domestic domain.
Or you may wish to spend some precious time planning the coming months: seeds and plants for your garden, places you might visit, or events you might take part in later in the year, or holidays you might take. We are still in the darkest time of the year which is good for resting… and dreaming.
When most of us dwelled in rural agrarian communities – and especially in the Celtic lands – feasting and communal enjoyment regularly went on until the end of January while the winter weather did its worst and little could be accomplished out-of-doors. Reading, games, storytelling, acting and verbal competitions were regularly used to entertain those gathered around the only source of heat and light – the fire pile high upon the central hearth.
It is pointless fretting over the dark evenings, the bad weather, the fact that ‘merry Christmas’ has passed. Enjoy today, especially as currently, parts of the country are at a standstill due to ice and snow. Yes, many were planning on returning to work, college and school today. Yes, at some point we will all have to catch up and it might mean extra work for a day or two. But look out of your windows.
Banish those January blues! Go out and breath in the crisp, clear air. Have a snowball fight. Whip up a sweat and get some exercise by shovelling your path or drive clear, and perhaps make a snowman or two in the process! Understand that these are suggestions for the adults. Where are the children? Nothing like playing in snow for healthy exercise, invigorating the appetite or inducing peaceful sleep. Many of us have been given a whole day in which to cleanse and make ourselves healthy. What a gift!
And when darkness begins to fall later this afternoon, don’t simply withdraw into your self-imposed shells. Switch off your appliances and get out the playing cards or a board game. Invite a neighbour in to join you for a glass of wine or a pot of tea. In so doing you will rediscover the true essence of what we were treasuring in our Christmas celebration.
It isn’t really Christmas that we celebrate – we are celebrating life – and each other – and that is to be enjoyed and made the very most of every day of the year!
As so many of you sent me emails and messages, I decided to respond with one huge ‘Thank you!’ to you all – I did indeed have a very happy day, in part because of all the love and goodwill channelled in my direction which warmed and deeply touched me.
‘You’ll never guess what I’ve just seen?’ My husband came rushing into the room upon his return from walking our dogs, ‘Someone has decorated all the trees in the car park!’ Last Saturday was a lovely day with clear winter-blue skies and blinding-bright sunshine, so I decided to take a walk down to the Canolfan at the bottom of the hill and go and have a look for myself.
The winter sun lit up the dozens of balls and decorations which had been daintily dangled from each branch-tip low enough to reach with a small ladder, or wound around the trunks of the trees which grow across the middle of the car park. It utterly transformed a rather grey and utilitarian space into something festive and magical. I could hardly believe my eyes! I wandered around from tree to tree – at least seven were bedecked, as were some of the lower shrubs and bushes. The sheer random unexpectedness of it all makes it doubly special – I simply stared, grinning… then got out my camera… then began to gather the rubbish.
Wind is often responsible for redistributing old empty wrappers and plastic bottles – but the human inhabitants must also take some responsibility too – some of the items I pulled out had been forcibly and securely stuffed down between stems where they couldn’t possibly have got to themselves. It is a habit of mine to pick up litter whenever I am out . So, what is it to me?
The whole decorating of trees in the depths of Midwinter possibly stems from customs and rituals to do with the sacrifice of animals and and the adornment of trees with steaming entrails for the benefit of the woodland deities and starving wildlife in harsh weather conditions. It reaches back into the dim mists of our human prehistory. The observation of activities similar to those long-ago actions brings us deep ancestral satisfaction and a sense of rightness.
Yesterday, I ventured out from my home and the almost hermit-like existence which has become habitual over the past eight months and went to visit my local garden centre. I haven’t been down there since last January and the first shock was to discover that there has been an extensive programme of extension and rebuilding and I hardly recognised the place! The second shock to my system was to be among so many people again – so many families with young children… ah, there is still life – and hope – out there!
‘MERRY VEGAN MIDWINTER’: an alternative festive feast of delights, Sunday, 24th November, 2019, Trigonos, Gwynedd, North Wales
