I am Cerridwyn, daughter of Wales. I live alone on an island in the middle of Llyn Tegid (now Bala Lake). Some call me a hag witch, which I consider a compliment for they are only acknowledging my powers as a holy woman, a fierce healer. I have two children, a daughter, Creidwy, and a son, Morfran, who I would fight to the death to protect from harm's way. And that is what I do for you, my children, protect and guide you through the dark nights of winter.
For this is a time to be brewing new potions in your cauldron for the coming year. It is time now to sit by the hearth fire and stir the thick soup, letting it simmer over the long dark nights to come. Don't be afraid to add new ingredients, to play with the recipe. I encourage you to add generous dollops of Courage, magnums of Inspiration, and heaping cupfuls of Trust. Circle the cauldron throughout the winter months, remembering its power, touching the container of life, death and rebirth, the never ending cycle, the beginning and the end.
Seek the light in the pregnant darkness. Gestate. Care for yourself. Renew. Restore. Release. And do it now my children, on December 22, the longest night of the year, when the sun appears to stand still in the sky. It is the time to release all that has been accumulating and weighing you down so that you can make way for the new.
I invite you to follow the lead of my sister, Pixie Campbell, as she guides you in the Mother of All Releasings Ceremony: Winter Solstice, 2012.
Winter Solstice Blessing by Stacy Anne Murphy
Shed away your tired old coats my darlings. Shed the tears that tear you from within. Like a snake who has outgrown her skin, writhe and scrape until the dull old scales fall away.
Slough off the remnants of your worn-out self. Peel away the layers that no longer suit you, that constrict you, so a shiny, smooth, lissome you emerges.
Glide effortlessly into the new year adaptable, flexible, amenable, joyful.
Enter your new beginning with grace, warm, bright, glistening, grace.