“The sun will come out tomorrow”
-Annie
A Long, Dark Road
As winter deepens and the days grow darker, we inch closer to its apex: the winter solstice. Falling on December 21st, the shortest day of the year marks the slow, steady return of daylight
I live in the small-ish town of Soldotna, Alaska. While not exactly rural, it lacks the some of the conveniences found in larger, urban areas. Because of this, It’s common for locals to make the three hour drive to Anchorage, Alaska’s largest city, for shopping, medical visits, sporting events and special occasions. Earlier this week, I made the trip for a dental appointment and Christmas shopping.
I’ve driven from Soldotna to Anchorage countless times in my life. Yet, I am always struck by the natural beauty of Alaska. The highway is lined with forests, rivers, mountains, inlets and a gazillion other natural wonders. It never gets old.
For my most recent trip, I set an alarm for 6 a.m. and was out the door by 6:30. The sun didn’t rise in Anchorage until 10 a.m. that day, so the entire drive unfolded in darkness. I passed the time sipping coffee, planning my day in the city, and listening to Christmas music. The drive felt almost unbearably monotonous, though. Even with the company of Nat King Cole and Mariah Carey.
It was still dark when I arrived in Anchorage at 9 a.m. At 9:30, the midnight blues of the night sky were giving way to early morning grey and by 10am it was almost daylight.
Navigating An Endless Night
I don’t enjoy driving in the dark. Beyond the narrow beam of my headlights, everything is a mystery. Is there a wreck or a broken-down vehicle ahead? Snow drifts, patches of ice, or perhaps a family of moose crossing the road? I won’t know until I’m almost on them.
My senses are heightened in the dark. I know I need to be ready to react in an instant. My hands grip the wheel tighter than usual and my eyes continuously scan the landscape for any hint of danger. I sit up straighter, lean in closer to the windshield, and slow down to ensure I can stop quickly if needed.
Driving in the dark is nerve wracking, but it’s also an unavoidable part of Alaskan life. If I plan to leave home for anything beyond basic winter errands, chances are I’ll be driving in the dark. With the sun rising around 10 a.m. and setting by 3 p.m., daylight doesn’t even last a full workday. Kids head to school in the dark and return home in the dark, especially if they have extracurricular activities
We northerners complain about the darkness. It’s almost a pastime during the long, cold winter months. But don’t let our grumbling fool you; Alaskans know how to navigate the darkness. Much of our lives are lived in it, and learning to cope with it is a survival skill—in more ways than one
Ask any Alaskan, and they’ll tell you: the darkest days come just before the light returns. January is especially challenging. The twinkling lights are gone, the festivities are over, and we’re left with subzero temperatures, a frozen landscape, and unrelenting darkness.
We’ll also tell you that, even in the depths of our desolation, there’s a thread of hope woven through it all— a quiet promise of brighter days ahead. Though we can’t see it yet, we know the light is coming. It always does. Even the darkest night doesn’t last forever
Solstice Dreams
This Saturday, the sun will begin its great return—shy at first, offering just a few extra moments of light on the horizon. By February, the days will noticeably lengthen, and before long, summer will arrive— the darkness all but disappearing. For a few sweet months, I’ll wake to the bright morning sun streaming through my bedroom window and fall asleep under the warm, golden glow of evening sunlight.
Just as the darkness cannot last forever, neither can the light.
The daylight hours will cease their expansion when we reach the summer solstice—a day Alaskans both revere and dread. On this longest day of the year, sunlight stretches endlessly from one day into the next. We mark the occasion with festivals and bonfires, reveling in the magic of uninterrupted light. Yet beneath the celebration lies a subtle unease. We know the darkness will return far sooner than we’d like, and we begin to brace ourselves. Though the shift won’t be noticeable for months, we cannot shake the feeling that awakens deep in our bones: winter is coming.
Embracing The Gifts of The Season
Nature moves in cycles, and in Alaska, those cycles often feel like a pendulum, swinging dramatically from one side to the other. We live a life of extremes because our home demands it. The long winter months teach to be resilient and grateful for even the smallest glimpses of light.
In the summer, you’ll often hear Alaskans say, 'I’ll sleep when I’m dead.' It may sound morbid, but it’s simply our way of articulating the rhythms of our life. All seasons are impermanent. When we find ourselves in a season of light, we embrace it fully, soaking up every last drop before the pendulum swings again.
When the darkness inevitably returns, we’ll never admit it, but deep down, we’re ready. Ready to retreat into our cozy winter havens, to burrow into the warmth of what we’ve stored away—both tangibly and within ourselves—for a much needed season of rest and renewal.
Winter Solstice Yoga Nidra for Deep Rest | Ally Boothroyd
There’s a reason this video has 87,000 views. I was blown away by this simple, yet transformative Yoga Nidra meditation. With a theme of restful reflection, Ally’s soothing guidance invites us to turn inward and settle into stillness. I found this to be deeply calming. It took me to a place of deeply, restorative rest. I have a feeling it will do the same for you
While Ally Boothroyd explored the theme of 'reflection' in the previous video, Nico shifts the focus to 'renewal' in this beautiful winter solstice sequence. True to her style, she provides plenty of space at the beginning and end for stillness and mindful breathing. The practice opens with a simple mudra, transitions into a gentle yet invigorating asana flow, and concludes with seated affirmations. I loved it
Gentle Morning Yoga to Fall in Love With Winter | Amala Yoga
18 Minutes | All levels | Beginner Friendly
What a unique class! I was thrilled to explore movements I had never encountered before—a rare and refreshing treat after so many years of yoga practice. I just adore this teacher and her sweet offerings. I shared her autumn yoga a few months ago and I suspect I will be sharing another of her videos very soon. For now, enjoy this beautiful offering from Amala.
Winter Solstice Yoga Nidra 20 Minute Deep Relaxation | Caren Hope
22 Minutes | All Levels | Beginner Friendly
This was sooooo relaxing! I am eternally amazed by how effective these short Nidras can be. I have been partial to the longer practices lately, but this was a refreshing reminder that a little really can go a long way.
I used this as a second practice on a day when I woke up way too early and needed a little extra support. It’s the perfect afternoon pick me up. I hope you find time to try it out this week.
You may have noticed that last week’s issue didn’t post at the usual time. That was odd, considering the newsletter is set to go out automatically every Sunday at 4 a.m. Alaska time
It turned out to be a happy accident though, because it motivated me to utilize the chat feature. I’ve been curious about Substack chat for a while, and now that I finally broke the ice, I’m excited to announce that I’ll be launching a weekly chat thread!
It’ll be a space to dive a little deeper into the themes from each issue, ask/answer questions and connect on a more personal level. I’m looking forward to engaging with all of you there.
Look for that in the next few days. Other than that, have a great week!
Happy winter solstice Jenny! You have perfectly articulated through words the felt experience for most Alaskan's. I always appreciate your writing, thank you. I am reminded of a quote from Rumi, "the crack is where the light gets in". In our deepest darkness, we have the opportunity to acknowledge, explore, and embrace our "cracks" or sense of woundedness. In love and light, Namaste