{"id":1352,"date":"2015-12-10T22:15:22","date_gmt":"2015-12-11T02:15:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/admin.patheos.com\/blogs\/quakerpagan\/?p=1352"},"modified":"2015-12-10T22:15:22","modified_gmt":"2015-12-11T02:15:22","slug":"how-to-have-a-perfect-yule","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/quakerpagan\/2015\/12\/how-to-have-a-perfect-yule.html","title":{"rendered":"How to Have a Perfect Yule"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

It was twenty-five years ago:<\/p>\n

Coming through the door, we stamped snow off our boots\u00a0and\u00a0were hit with a wall of noise.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"Yule<\/a>
Yule Wreath. 2014.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

There must have been fifty people\u00a0crowding the farmhouse that night. Some were locked in conversation, clustered in twos and threes. \u00a0Toddlers careened across the room at knee level, and out in the kitchen two guitarists and a drummer hunched over mismatched chairs, their music lost\u00a0in the general roar.<\/em><\/p>\n

A wish-net filled with lights and tokens hung over the battered sofa, potluck foods were laid out in heaps, and\u00a0the wood-stove cranked out\u00a0needless\u00a0heat. Hats and boots and mittens steamed in the entryway, friends\u00a0greeted each other\u00a0with hugs, and a man I\u2019d never met before pressed lyrics into our\u00a0hands.<\/em><\/p>\n

Outside under a dark sky studded with stars, the snow was too cold to make snowballs; inside, everything\u00a0was laughter, and light, and noise.<\/em><\/p>\n

We sang the songs, we lit the candles, we called back the sun. At the end of the night, we\u00a0took home a\u00a0candle apiece to keep watch for us over\u00a0the longest night. \u00a0Peter and I bundled my sleepy daughter into the car and started the long, winding way home in the dark.<\/em><\/p>\n

It was my first Solstice in Massachusetts, and it was the perfect Yule.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Time passes; ten years later, my daughter was almost grown, and I had become a new teacher, overwhelmed\u00a0at work and at home:<\/p>\n

Solstice Eve, and I am stuck in traffic. \u00a0It is my job to light the family Need Fire, the fire to carry us through the long night, but the faculty meeting ran long, the days are short, and the sun is setting already. \u00a0Disaster! \u00a0I am a terrible Pagan\u2013a terrible wife, and a terrible mother.<\/em><\/p>\n

Crestfallen, I finally get\u00a0home in the dark.<\/em><\/p>\n

Seeing my anguish at \u201cruining Yule,\u201d my husband\u00a0and my daughter confer. \u00a0How can they turn back time, and find a flame that was burning before the sun went down, and is burning still?<\/em><\/p>\n

The hot water heater has a pilot light, they realize; it may not be glamorous, but it has kept the year\u2019s fire alive! \u00a0After some rummaging to find the last of the candles, they head down the stairs together. \u00a0Minutes later, they rise up from the basement triumphantly, to kindle our altar\u2019s flame. \u00a0And I am in tears.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0All my fussing, all my worry, all my trying to Make Yule Happen, and it happened as simply as that. \u00a0There they were, my family, teaching\u00a0me, taking care of me. \u00a0The Light never really goes out. \u00a0In the time of the Dark, \u00a0we can rely\u00a0on each other.<\/em><\/p>\n

Nothing was ruined\u2013and it was the perfect Yule.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Flash forward another five\u00a0years:<\/p>\n

We were still wobbly, still weak.<\/em><\/p>\n

Peter and I had been sick\u2013we\u2019d been so sick, with one of those epic strains of flu\u00a0that left us barely able\u00a0to toddle to the bathroom and back, over and over again.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t come,\u201d we\u2019d told his\u00a0parents.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t come,\u201d we\u2019d told my daughter and son-in-law.<\/em><\/p>\n

We were too sick to put up the tree.<\/em><\/p>\n

We were too sick to wrap up the presents.<\/em><\/p>\n

We were too sick to make cinnamon buns, or oyster stew, mulled cider or apple pie. \u00a0We barely had the strength to\u00a0light our candles on Solstice Eve.<\/em><\/p>\n

The next day, on the solstice itself, somehow we put up the tree. We perched the sun at the top, and had to lie down and\u00a0nap.<\/em><\/p>\n

The next day, we managed the ornaments.<\/em><\/p>\n

Slowly, gradually, we caught up with some, though not all, of\u00a0our yearly traditions. \u00a0(I never did roast that bird.)<\/em><\/p>\n

By the 26th, we emerged from the house for the first time, blinking against the bright sun on the snow. \u00a0We drove downtown together, to try on funny hats in the comic book store, and to stagger next door for\u00a0Chinese food.<\/em><\/p>\n

We were weak, we were sick, we were tired\u2026 and it was the perfect Yule.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"Cat<\/a>
Cat and her Mom. Yule, 2013.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Over the years, as my community\u00a0and my family\u00a0have grown\u00a0and changed, our Yule traditions have changed with them. \u00a0Things that started as short-cuts borne of necessity, like my annual rendezvous with my parents for a gift exchange over lunch, have become new traditions: every year, I look forward to our annual walk on a wintry beach, and our\u00a0lunch looking over the waves.<\/p>\n

Some of our traditions, like celebrating the Solstice only, we\u2019ve compromised along the way. Peter\u2019s aging parents are with us now, and my daughter is all grown up, married into a Jewish family and considering converting, herself. \u00a0Christians are part of our family, Jews are part of our family, so Christmas is part of our Yule these days, and\u00a0Hanukkah is part it, too.<\/p>\n

Last year, the menorah was lit on our altar, next to our solstice tree. \u00a0Neither one seemed to mind.<\/p>\n

The ancients tracked the seasons with clocks of stone, with megaliths, and they lacked\u00a0the accuracy of a modern quartz clock. \u00a0These days, we allow our Yuletide to slump a little, to blend,\u00a0to make way. \u00a0We are not perfect, and I am slowly learning not to attempt to be.<\/p>\n

I think that maybe I\u2019ve\u00a0grown up at last, and I finally understand: it isn\u2019t the shape of the tree or the form of traditions that make a solstice\u00a0perfect.<\/p>\n

Families change. \u00a0Traditions evolve; we craft some that are new, and others we must lay aside. \u00a0After all, that is what Yule is about: Renewal.<\/p>\n

Some things must change\u2026 but some are forever the same.<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Families change. Traditions evolve; we craft some that are new, and others we must lay aside. After all, that is what Yule is about: Renewal. Some things must change… but some are forever the same.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1904,"featured_media":1378,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[16],"tags":[7,155,153,93,154,152,92],"class_list":["post-1352","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-cats-posts","tag-pagan","tag-pagan-family","tag-ritual","tag-solstice","tag-tradition","tag-winter-solstice","tag-yule"],"yoast_head":"\nHow to Have a Perfect Yule<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Families change. Traditions evolve; we craft some that are new, and others we must lay aside. After all, that is what Yule is about: Renewal. 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