Pssst! You! Yeah, you... Are a passenger on a planet. On a blue-green planet that's orbiting a golden star. And right now the star that we're orbiting is missing from our sky for longer each day than at any other point in our yearly journey around it. Yes, our sun is rising later than ever now and is setting earlier than ever now. And this is telling us where we are in our 600-million-mile orbit.

Our planet is tilted at a 23.5 degree angle to the path of our yearly orbit. When our hemisphere points away from the sun we're in winter. When our hemisphere points toward the sun we're in summer. Since we're in the northern hemisphere, sunrise and sunset are now as far south as ever at the winter solstice. This southernmost sunrise-and-sunset is telling us where we are in our orbit - IF we know how to read the sky. If we don't, we are lost.

Fortunately, our ancient, sky-watching ancestors -- no matter where in the world they lived -- were determined not to get lost. They were also determined to leave us concrete evidence of how to avoid getting lost. For example, in Ireland there is a 5,000-year-old, acre-sized structure called Newgrange. It's built so that only at the winter-solstice sunrise does sunlight reach into and light up an underground chamber at the end of a 60-foot tunnel. Newgrange tells us where we are in our yearly orbit, so Newgrange is a calendar. It shows us where we are in our cyclical relationship with the light that is life.

The lack of light at the winter solstice means that growth stops and the life-force is as weak as it gets. Nevertheless, our little blue-green planet is still spinning and orbiting. So, night always turns into day, and winter always melts into summer. And at the winter solstice the days start to grow longer: the light starts to return. But this turn-around is just beginning; you can barely see this infant of light. It's so tiny and so fragile in all the darkness that you nurture it with all the juice you can find. You sing to this newborn sun. You sing about this newborn sun. You dance, you feast, and you decorate your home with candles that inspire you to trust that this light will grow. You warm yourselves by the crackling fire, as your whole community nurtures and celebrates this infant of light. Yes, for centuries, our ancient Roman ancestors did this. They called their celebration Sol Invictus, meaning "sun that cannot be conquered." Then, as the Roman Empire was threatened by invaders, this holiday (celebrated on December 25) was given a new name. In 440 A.D. it was re-named Christmas.

We celebrate at this time of year because of the darkness that's ending, because of the light that's returning, and because of the power of this pivotal time. To avoid change now is impossible. The only question is how smoothly we do it. So, I'm hoping, as my solstice gift to you, that a little more understanding of this change will make it smoother.

This is Harriet Witt, your guide for this little ride on our passenger planet.


If you have any questions, drop Harriet an email: harriet@passengerplanet.com


return to home page