The Morrighan takes no flack, offers zero excuses, and makes no promises of gentle paths. She will pluck you straight out of your certainty and drop you outside of the illusory walls you’ve constructed as your safe fortress. The mirror She holds for each of us, if we dare to ask, reflects only that which we know to be true in our most private of thoughts. She doesn’t show us these parts of ourselves out of malice. She of the Sidhe deals in the rawest of truths that power alchemical transformation. She offers those who dare to ask the knife with which we cut open and let bleed out the parts of us that must die in order to make way for our own growth.

And so, calling in The Morrighan on the longest night of the year as I helped tend the Yule flame in silence, scried into the fire, walked the labyrinth, and asked Her to lend me Her deepest wisdom while I sat in my own shadows was - well - intense doesn’t cover it.

From Familiar Ritual to the Unknown Path of Transformation

Our Yule ritual took a few different forms, all at once, this year. Which seems befitting of our shape-shifting Goddess in attendance. At first, we held our typical type of ritual, with our participatory community all working together to cast our circle, call the elements, and welcome the Goddess. We stated our intention, worked in trance, and then took part in practices to deepen the work. We were invited to walk the labyrinth, where we’d journey into our shadow selves and emerge with ideas, thoughts, and behaviors that no longer serve us. Those, we offered to the alchemical Yule fire. We wrote letters to our future selves, and we had the opportunity to visit with the Goddess in Aspect. 

Afterward, the inside of the house became a lively setting of feasting and conversation, set in the home of Wild Women Soaps (the house smells SO good!) and surrounded by the cheery glow of candles and holiday decorations. 

Outside, the Yule fire burned on in ritual space. Unlike most rituals, we left that sacred space up, choosing to close the circle after sunrise. Some attendees left after the main ritual, others stayed for part of the night, and some of us braved the “cold” long night (we’re in Arizona… cold is relative) to tend the fire until first light. We kept the outside as an ice cave of silence, where we could hear the whispers (or, you know… shouts) of The Morrighan as we explored hourly prompts that beckoned us ever deeper into our shadow selves.

In silence, we tended the fire throughout the night, exploring the depths of our shadows until dawn broke, when we welcomed the new light of the coming year.