12 Nights of Dreaming
Happy Christmas Eve. I have joined up with writer, Sylvia Linsteadt, to offer you twelve winter nights of dreaming. This time of winter holy days has long and ancient origins in many of my ancestral lands, where the heart of winter darkness became a time to watch for, and celebrate the return of solar light and the promise of new life. Each day for the next 12, we will offer you a writing prompt, crafted by Sylvia, and a dreaming task. You are invited to write on the prompt and then set the intention to dream with the understanding, that we are dreaming with spirit. In animistic traditions, there is a belief that everything is filled with spirit or “energy”. When we dream with spirit, we are co-creating dreams with the purpose to seek knowledge, connection, healing, blessings, transformation, and so forth.
12 Nights of Dreaming - Night 1 -
Here is your writing prompt:
”In you there is a bright, deep hearth where a fire burns that has never gone out. Beside it, in the sacred adornments of your ancestors, sits a grandmother who loves you beyond words, an ancestral grandmother who carries great healing and blessing in her whole being. Approach this grandmother. Reach into your pocket and pull out a gift to give her. Pay attention to what gift emerges from your pocket. How does she receive it? Now, sit with her, letting her hold you, stroke your hair, cradle your hand. Feel the immense love she has for you. When you are ready, ask her for a message, from her and from all your well ancestral mothers, a message that addresses the deepest and most mysterious question in your heart right now.”
Dreaming Task:
Your dreaming task tonight is in honor of Mother’s Night, or Mōdraniht. Mother’s Night is found in ancient Britain and Germanic/Scandinavian cultures, and usually takes places on Christmas Eve or Yule eve (before solstice). It's considered the beginning of the 12 days of Christmas. It's a time to honor your matrilineal or collective mother ancestors with food, prayers, songs, and if you choose, dreaming.
- Night 2 -
For the second night of dreaming, our theme is The Divine Child.
We may all be familiar with the birth of the divine child celebrated in Christian religion on this day, but the birth of the divine child at mid-winter is much older and found in many cultures. In Old Europe, the winter was the time of deepest darkness, with only the shifting light of the sun at solstice marking the promise of new life to come. For example, we can find the divine child of the sun and/or rebirth in Greek myth of Dionysus, Egyptian Horus, Welsh Mabon, and Irish Grian.
Whether you identify with the dominant myths associated with this time of year or feel drawn to other folk pathways and traditions, the divine child is a spirit we can all tune ourselves to. They are the spark of new life, the promise of light and growth, the hope in the dark, the gift born of our labors, the spirit of our creative forces.
Here is Sylvia Linsteadt’s writing prompt for today:
“Up the high mountain in the snow, there is a cave. There, the divine child was born, and is resting now in his mother's bright arms, with the sacred goat and the mothering bees around them. In a manger in the starry dark, the divine child was born, and is resting in the warm, sweet hay. You enter this cave, this manger, this space of divine birth, and are engulfed in the miracle of new life, the kind that emerges out of the longest dark. You have gifts in your hands. Look down and discover what gifts they are, as you place them at the feet of mother and child. Sit quietly in this healing place, and when you are ready, ask yourself--what has been your longest night, your furthest inner darkness, in the past year? And what, now, is your child of divine light, the one you are birthing from winter's heart? Finally, what animal knowing is present in you, there to greet and guard this newborn light?”
Dreaming Task:
Your dreaming task is to dream with the Divine Child. You can approach this as dreaming with your inner divine child, or as the overarching spirit of new life celebrated by so many traditions this time of year.
- Night 3 -
Tonight’s dreaming task draws inspiration from the Celtic and European tradition of Hunting the Wren. The wren was considered a sacred bird in medieval Europe. It was associated with divination by the Druids, and with rejuvenation and renewal in medieval Europe. In Welsh the word Dryw means both druid and wren, and its song and flight were used in divinatory practices. Wrens are small birds, typically very hard to see, and even more difficult to hunt; the yearly ritual hunting of the wren was also a hunting of the elusive wisdom of the divine.
The hunting of the wren involved either the sacrifice of a wren or the capture of a wren, who was later paraded around the streets by a troop of young men or boys as a symbol of abundance, renewal, and fertility in the year to come. The boys dressed up, often in straw and masks, and sang songs as they traveled from house to house. In some parts of Britain, the wren was captured and carried about in a small wren house, or decorated with ribbons and then set free.
In many parts of Europe, the name for wren translates to “king” or “little king”, such as the Greek basiliskos, or French roitelet. The winter Wren is the king of birds, representing the winter king, who must die, or be sacrificed in order for the summer king to reign. Beneath the practice and the legends is an ancient understanding of the balance of light and dark, played out yearly in the lemnsicatic dance between summer and winter.
Interestingly, in an old Manx legend, the wren was a she, and she became the king of birds by outwitting the eagle. In another variant, she was a beautiful fairy who lured men to their deaths. In another, she was the bird who warned Jesus of eminent danger in the garden of Gethsemane.
We humans have often looked to birds for signs, portends, messages, and wisdom. From the dove as Holy Spirit to the raven as symbol of death goddess, birds speak to us of shapeshifting and the liminal nature of spirit who sits between heaven and earth, wearing the guise of feathers.
Writing prompt from Sylvia Linsteadt:
“If you can go outside in that crepuscular time just before sunrise, as the sky lightens, to hear the dawn chorus; how the birds sing the sun back up, how they weave the world back together every morning, their voices like bright, storied threads. Listen for one thread and follow its pattern with your ears and your mind.
“Let the sound speak its language to you, whether or not you know the name of the bird it belongs to. Listen for the story in it, a story from the earth where you’ve woken up. Trust what you hear. Take dictation from the birds today.”
Note: This writing prompt can be undertaken in the morning after your night’s dreaming with the birds.
Dreaming Task:
Your dreaming task is to dream with the birds, or a particular species of bird that evokes a sense of connection or fascination within you. It may help to think of birds you associate with winter. Before bed, invite the spirit of the bird(s) to dream with you, perhaps by lighting a candle, or speaking the invitation into the night air.
- Night 4 -
For our 4th night (last night) the dreaming task is to connected with a body of water you feel drawn to, and invite the spirit of that water to dream with you. You can do this any time, so don’t feel stuck on doing the dreaming in order.
As we dream through these twelve days, we are dreaming with different aspects of the earth. In doing so we can start to feel our own personal connection to the natural world strengthen, as well as becoming dreamers who dream into the collective field of possibility. By doing this we court the idea that we are part of the earth dreaming, and we can be both dreamt and actively dream a better world into being.
Winter is when the waters rise, the lakes fill, the rivers run. It’s an essential time for the replenishment of water to drought-parched lands, and it’s also a time when we confront the power of water in the way of storms, floods, and snow.
May your cups be ever-full.
Sylvia’s prompt:
In you are all the bodies of water, all the springs and aquifers, reservoirs, seas, rivers and lakes, that have fed and nourished you throughout your life. Write the memory of one, full-bodied, sensory encounter you've had with a body of water that is holy to you, that lives inside you still. Next, remember that in you are all the bodies of water your ancestors knew, all the waters that nourished them, that fed their fields, that cleansed their bodies and held the imprints of their dreams. Allow a loving ancestor to come forward in your imagination, to tell you something about a body of water that they loved.
Dreaming Task:
Your dreaming task is to think of a body of water you feel drawn to, and invite the spirit of that water to dream with you.
- Night 5 -
In the heart of winter, there is a constant reminder of lasting life found in the proud council of evergreens. During winter folk festivals across Europe, evergreen boughs and trees are brought into the home to symbolize everlasting life. This is where the Christmas tree tradition came from.
Prior to the Victorian era (when the Christmas tree was brought indoors), festival trees were decorated in the village square, often with fruits and nuts.
In Poland, the tops of fir trees were cut and hung upside down over the dinning table. In Rome, evergreens decorated the houses and streets for he winter festival of Saturnalia.
When you look to different myths in old Europe you find various stories of sacred trees. In Norse mythology, Yggdrasil is the world tree and tree of life connecting the worlds, with its roots in the sacred well of memory and it’s branches in the cosmos. The druids of the Celtic isles used to meet in sacred groves. The Oracle of Dodona, Greece, recorded prophecy by listening to the sacred oak in the temple grounds.
Trees are kindred to us, providing home, shelter, protection, food, medicine, and companionship.
Here is Sylvia’s writing prompt:
Call to mind a tree that you have known well. Perhaps a tree you remember climbing as a child, or resting beneath, or a tree you know now, be it on a city sidewalk or in a deep wood. Perhaps, further back, it's a tree that was very sacred to your ancestral people. In your imagination, approach this tree and look for its precious, hidden door, the door that leads to its mysterious and sacred interior. Leave a gift at the door's threshold. Enter the tree. Who or what meets you here? Breathe, and observe what you see around you. Listen for the knowledge, long-denied, that the tree would like, at last, to return to your heart.
Dreaming Task:
Your dreaming task is to dream with your tree (from prompt) or to dream with the community of trees as aspects of the world tree itself.
- Night 6-
I am sitting in the living room of my parents house with the fire crackling away in the hearth. We kept it going all night because it’s our only source of heat. The power has been out for three days after a rare snow storm in Nevada City, CA. We have curtained off the living room entry and are all sleeping, reading, eating, drying clothes, warming bodies, and playing games around the fireplace. Five adults, a baby, and a dog.
When I planned these 12 days, I had the hearth spirit set for today, but did not anticipate what a hearth-centered experience I would be having.
Who is the hearth spirit? They are household spirits who look after the members of the home as long as they, in turn, are honored and cared after. Hint: leave them honey or milk! In Slavic culture they are the domovoy, often connected to ovens. They are often depicted as bearded, little old men. In in the Scotland, England and Ireland, the brownie is a household spirit who comes out at night and does small chores (unless you offend them). There are regional names for similar spirits in Scotland, Wales, and the Isle of Man. The Lar Familiaris of Ancient Rome was the household spirit protecting and ensuring abundance and fertility for the family. A shrine was kept for the lares in each household, often near the hearth. There is also the German Kobold, the Danish Nis, and the Scandinavian Tomte. The list goes on and on, with many small regional differences, all connected to the little people or fairies.
You do not need to identify with a particular ancestry to form a relationship with your house/hearth spirit. Nor do you need a traditional hearth or fireplace. The hearth spirit come to life with your attention and desire to relate to this aspect of place.
Light a candle tonight in honor of the invisible energy that tends to the wellness of your home. Enjoy the prompt from Sylvia Linsteadt:
“In you is a fire that has never gone out, an ember-bed tended lovingly for a thousand generations, a hearth whose lineage is life’s, and your ancestors’. Feel how this great, deep, all-nourishing hearth has come to be housed in you. How the embers and their flames can be your sanctuary and your strength. Take some time in your notebook to investigate the hearth within. What state is it in? Does it need sweeping, stoking, tending? Does it need a song, or a story, a slice of bread, a glass of wine? After you have attended to these needs, look into the dancing surfaces of the embers. What patterns do they show you? What messages do they share?”
Dreaming Task:
Your dreaming task is to dream with your hearth spirit, or similarly, your household spirit who tends the wellbeing of your home.
- Night 7 -
There is something about the winter stars that give us hope. Pinpricks of light agains the dark blue endless nights. Stars provide many of our origin myths, whether it be the birth of humanity, the birth of a god, the birth of bees, or the arrival of the divine child.
When asked, I find most people feel a sense of home in the stars. They are the eternal mystery. They are the promise of infinite possibility. It is possible to feel home is both this vast green earth and the distant strange stars. They are the companions in the dark, the way showers, the navigation points, the time keepers, the wish-bringers.
Your dreaming prompt is to dream with the stars and seek to receive some of their secrets.
Follow Sylvia’s Sylvia Linsteadt’s prompt to go deeper into this theme:
“Open up an atlas of the night sky, a map of the stars and planets and constellations. Let your eyes and your heart guide you to the name of a star that isn't immediately familiar to you, but that lights up something deep within you. Or maybe it isn't the name, but the shape or pattern of the star that captivates you— the third star in Lyra maybe, or the smallest star in Orion. Follow your gut. Next, in writing, address this star with words of praise, generosity, and love. Tell it your name, in whatever simple or elaborate way you want to. Ask it to tell you its name— which may or may not be the name you saw written on the sky map. Tell it a secret you've been carrying. Observe how it receivers your secret. Then, ask it to tell you a secret of its own. Carry this secret close to you, for it is a treasure
- Night 8 -
Tonight’s dreaming task and prompt is a bit strange, and is coming to you rather late, since we’re still recovering from an epic snow storm.
We will start with your dreaming task:
Your task is a dream prayer for those who have left us this year (or previous years), as well as anything that is ready to be offered up to the sweeping winds.
This dreaming prompt is inspired by the legend of the Wild Hunt. It’s a stay indoors and get cozy kind of New Years for Aurora and I, and with it comes the reminder of the old legends surrounding Yuletide and winter in many Northern European countries. The time of the darkest part of winter has long been considered a time when spirits are out an about. It’s not a time to be caught out in the dark, alone, for the fairy court, or the Wild Hunt, or Herne the Hunter may swoop you up.
As with most folk traditions of Old Europe, there are regional variation of the Wild Hunt. These in turn, have been heavily Christianized, often connecting the Wild Hunt with the devil or demons. However, if we scrape beneath the surface of this story we find common threads linking myths that center on a great host of spirits, often lead by a god, goddess, or long-dead king, traveling across the night skies, accompanied by hunting dogs and fearsome winds. In some stories, they are gathering up evil-doers or unbaptized infants (do I hear some Christian undertones?), but in others they are responsible for gathering up the souls of the departed to carry them into the afterlife. At times this host is the fairy court out on a wild ride through the countryside, at others it’s the fallen heroes of Valhalla. In parts of England, it is led by the antlered God Herne, in Germany the fertility goddess Holda, while in Rome it was the moon-bright Diana.
On the nights of the wild hunt, it is recommended to stay indoors, and perhaps leave an offering of food or wine outside. So on this New Years eve, if you happen to be avoiding crowds like so many of us, I invite you to listen to the winds, and send your prayers for that which is departing onward, carried on the wings and hooves of the Wild Hunt.
Your writing prompt from Sylvia:
“There is a great wind sweeping through you tonight. A great wind that knows your name, your family history, your past, present, and many futures. Inside this wind are benevolent but powerful protectors of your who are here to gather up what is dead in you, and what is dead in your life. What wants to fall away from you, what wants to be winnowed? Let this great wind and its people gather all this up from you now.
“Tale a moment to reflect — what does the wind gather from you? What words or gestures do you need to make in order to let go? Where does the wind carry what you have let go of? Watch how it is returned to the heart of the world.”
- Night 9 -
Your writing and dreaming task are one in the same tonight. We are stepping into the new, and using our dreaming selves to dream our wishes into being. Tonight take some time to write down all your wishes. Then focus on three main wishes that include:
1) A wish for yourself
2) A wish for your family and/or community
3) A wish for the world.
When you’re done, distill each of the final three wishes down to a short sentence and write it on a piece of paper. Place that paper under your pillow and dream them into being.
When the time feels right, you can give these pieces of paper to the earth by burning or burning them, belong to being the spark of life or the fertile soil of growth into your year.
- Night 10 -
Where would we be without the winter season’s most magical friend? We certainly wouldn’t have a Santa. Nor any flying reindeer. And life on earth probably wouldn’t exist. Your dreaming community tonight are the mycelium. They who thread through all things. Know all things. Take us into our deeper knowing.
Since we’re still in the night-dark wonder of the winter festival season, I must give a special nod of appreciation to eye-catching Amanita muscaria. This red and white capped mushroom 🍄 is associated with the shamanic origins of flying reindeer in Siberia, where the term shaman originated among the Tungus people. Both the Tungusic and Sami people of the far north are nomadic reindeer herders. The Amanita muscaria mushroom grows beneath evergreen trees and is sometime consumed by reindeer, causing an altered state, which anthropologists believe first led the reindeer herders to sample the mushroom themselves. After drying the mushroom on evergreen branches, the local shaman would bring gifts of the “flying” mushroom to the people, helping to evoke otherworld visions and bring sacred knowledge to the people. This is part of the origin story of the benevolent elf/man who brings gifts with the aid of reindeer.
Whether you have ever sampled a mind-altering mushroom or not, the nature of mushrooms and the mycelial network is akin to the web of dreams we weave: mutable, ancient, sentient, and able to transform reality.
You are invited to dream with these wisdom keepers and earth tenders tonight.
Writing prompt from Sylvia:
“In your imagination, visit the tree you met with a few nights ago, a tree beloved to you now, or a tree sacred to your ancestral people. Go stand barefoot under this tree, and et your feet sink into the humus and soil there until they are buried in earth. Earth full of mycelial threads, the threads that connect one tree to the next at the root tips, acting as vast messengers and networks of language and love between trees. Imagine your feet growing roots, and these roots gently, respectfully, joyfully, joining the web of tree roots and their mycelium. You are part of the web of communication of this earth, the web of communication between trees. Visualize sending a wave of love from your heart down your body, out through your feet, and into this web. See it moving along the threads. What do the mycelium do with this offered love of yours? Where do they take it? Listen, and write what you hear. What nutrients and blessings do they bring back to you, into your own roots? Listen, and write what you hear.
Dreaming Task:
Your dreaming task is to dream with the mycelial community. They who thread through all things, know all things, and us into our deeper knowing.
- Night 11 -
I grew up in a town that was small enough to still have caroling. I used to love going from house to house singing tunes. We gathered before a house and sang until the owners opened the door. Sometimes they ignored us, but sometimes they would join in. If I had been doing this a few centuries back, perhaps the owners would have offered treats, money, or gifts. Or, perhaps we wouldn’t have been singing to homeowners at all; we would have been singing to the trees.
Wassaling the trees is a custom that stretches across the Christmas season, and well into February. The word wassail comes from Anglo Saxon “vesheil” meaning “be well” or “be whole”. It is both an action and a beverage. As a drink, it is typically made from a spiced wine/ale or cider and sometimes an egg. In medieval England, where abundant apple orchards grew and livelihoods depended on a bountiful harvest, folk would go down to the orchards with a large bowl of hot, spiced wassail. Often they dressed colorfully, wore feathers in their hats, and even performed masked plays. Songs were sung to the trees while wassail was sprinkled over the branches. The bowl of wassail was also shared among revelers, and at the end, the villagers went to the largest tree in the orchard and poured the remaining wassail into its roots. Toast soaked in cider or beer was placed in the forks of the tree. Ever wonder where the term “toast” while drinking came from? Now you know. All this was done with the intention to wake the spirit of the trees and ward off an evil spirit that may harm the harvest.
In the spirit of our ancient ties to the land, your dreaming task is to dream with the spirit of Good Health for yourself and the land.
Enjoy Sylvia’s writing prompt to help inspire!
“In you is an orchard. Over the last year, the trees in your orchard have flowered, leafed, swelled, ripened, been harvested, lost their leaves, and gone into winter’s dormancy once more. Perhaps you’ve tended this orchard diligently this year. Perhaps you’ve let the elements tend it for you. Either way, your trees have borne fruit that has fed and nourished you in both seen and unseen ways. In the heart of the winter now, as you walk through this orchard feeling the dreaming of the first buds still held in the trunks of the trees, imagine that you are addressing the old spirit of the orchard. You are carrying a beautiful jug full of cider or mead made from the fermented fruits of this orchard of yours. It is strong and delicious. Pour it out under each tree, to feed and bless your orchard for the coming year. An old man or an old woman—the spirit of the orchard—emerges from between the trunks to receive this gift. What do you say to them? What do they say back to you? How might this spirit of the orchard counsel you to tend to your wellbeing?”
- Night 12 -
Our 12 nights of dreaming come to a close with the winter witches. January 5th (tomorrow) is the eve of the Epiphany. In western Christianity, this marks the day the three Kings, or three Magi, met the baby Jesus.
It Italy, the eve of the Epiphany is celebrated with great anticipation by children waiting for La Befana. She is the Christmas witch and flies on her broom from house to house, bringing gifts for the children. It’s traditional to leave out small cakes, and to leave stockings up by the fire for La Befana to fill with dried fruit, nuts, and sweets.
Who better to represent this time than a benevolent witch who somehow found her way into Christian myth? The broom is one of the most powerful symbols of Old European women’s spirituality. It is the symbol of the spirit flight of the shaman, the witch, and the seer. It is the world tree. It is the spine, the Axis Mundi, the sacred tool.
La Befana is said to sometimes use her broom to sweep your house before she leaves, sweeping out all the troubles of the year before (yes, we could all really use a La Befana sweep right now). When women’s spiritual authority had to retreat into hiding, the broom became a symbol of the witch. This is in part due to the use of every day domestic tools as objects of power: broom, cauldron, loom, spinning wheel, oven, and others. The power of the witch lies in her intention, not in how fancy or obvious her tools are. The threads of remembrance are alive within us because women’s spirituality learned how to hide in plain sight.
Join La Befana, the three fates, Frau Holda, the Callieach, and the many witches of winter as we spin the wheel of the year, celebrate the good, wish for luck, and fly out on our brooms to bring that good fortune to the world.
Thank you so much for participating with Sylvia (@sylviavlinsteadt) and me in this winter dreaming and writing exploration.
Sweet dreams and many wonders to you all!
Writing prompt from Sylvia:
“Across the winter sky, over the winter earth, under the fur of the stars, a benevolent guardian is traveling toward you with a bundle of gifts. Perhaps this guardian is robed and crowned, coming with rare resins, like one of the Magi. Perhaps this guardian is a kind of witch from a like of kind of witches in your blood, the sort of witch who can divine by patterns that horses leave in the snow, or by the patterns in your coffee grounds, or by the dancing letters in the embers. Go out, in your imagination, to meet this benevolent, magical being under the winter stars. Bring them inside, offer them food and drink, and observe what gifts they unwrap from the bundle they have brought you. Observe what it is they choose to divine by, for you. What do they see? What unexpected gifts have they brought? Describe the gift that surprises you the most that you have received, and the one that surprises you the most that you are compelled to give back.”
Dreaming Task:
Your final dreaming task is to fly with the witches… To fly your broom across the dreaming night with the winter witches, receiving their gifts, their divinations, and their blessings.
