Alban Arthan: Lessons of the Mid-Winter Solstice
I landed in time, my feet in Cymru, ready to embrace the magic of Alban Arthan (the mid-winter solstice). I was here, I was home. The energy of the land wrapped around me like a warm embrace and I was looking forward to attending all the rituals for the season. The anticipation of gathering with my fellow Druids, sharing in the turning of the year, and connecting with the sacredness of place filled me with joy.
But the universe had other plans.
Within 24 hours of arriving, a strained sacroiliac ligament halted my movements and the dreaded “festive flu” followed close behind. I had so much fomo on missing all my Druid celebrations, but I literally couldn’t move or breathe, such was the savage nature of the virus.
So there I was, unable to attend the rituals I had envisioned so vividly. Instead, I was forced to ask myself: What was I meant to learn?
As I rested, the answer emerged. I could still be present in spirit. I discovered that I could project my essence to the rituals I so deeply yearned to attend. Closing my eyes, I imagined myself standing in sacred circles, hearing the words and feeling the energy of the earth as it turned toward light once more. This practice brought me solace, even as my body demanded stillness and healing.
The flu’s lasting effects lingered - dizziness making it impossible for me to venture out alone but my spirit remained unbroken. When the worst of the illness passed, I found myself yearning for the grounding presence of trees. Dod yn ôl at fy Nghoed, I returned to my trees, a beautiful, hidden wood nestled in suburban Caerdydd.
The moment I stepped into that grove, I was truly home. The trees seemed to welcome me back as an old friend, their branches cradling me in a silent embrace. And then, as if the land itself wished to soothe my soul, the snow began to fall. Its silent, whispering nature brought a smile to my face. Each flake was a reminder of the season’s wisdom: the importance of stillness, preparation and the necessity of rest.
Alban Arthan teaches us to embrace the quiet and slumber of winter, to retreat indoors and kindle the warmth of hearth and spirit. For me, it became a time to deepen my connection to the unseen. Though my body couldn’t walk the paths I had planned, my spirit roamed freely, joining my fellow Druids in their celebrations of the solstice.
This winter, I learned to honour the season’s call for inner work and stillness, even as I look forward to the light’s return. For now, I rest, project and dream of the day I can walk those sacred paths once more. Until then, I remain home - rooted in Cymru, cradled by the land and held by the ancient trees that remind me of the resilience and beauty within us all.
