Simplicity Living Circle — December Reflections at the Edge of the Longest Night
The final gathering of 2025
December gathering
On a still, chilly evening just a breath before the Winter Solstice, our circle gathered beneath bare branches and a sky just beginning to blush pink with sunset. Nearly twenty souls arrived—some familiar, some stepping into the woods for the first time—and together we shaped our last Simplicity Living Circle of the year.
There was a particular hush to this gathering, the kind that settles in the heart rather than the ears—a quiet knowing that we, too, were leaning toward the longest night, invited into reflection as the light prepared its slow return.
Opening the Circle
Christina welcomed us with her steady warmth, inviting newcomers and longtime members alike to exhale, arrive, and remember that this community exists because so many of us feel the same tug toward a simpler, more intentional life. We root for one another here. We learn from one another here. And we come back, month after month, because simplicity is brighter when tended in community.
Honoring Yule
We paused to honor the turning of the year—Yule, that ancient stillpoint in the Celtic wheel when the sun seems to hold its breath. This is the moment when the Holly King yields and the Oak King rises, when evergreen branches whisper that even in deepest winter, life endures.
Yule reminds us of the old truth: the light always returns, but only after we surrender to the dark long enough to hear what it’s trying to say.
In our modern key, we take this wisdom into our bones by slowing down, letting the night quiet us, and remembering that intentional living isn’t a discipline—it’s a devotion.
Living Simply in 2026 — Reflection in Community
Reflecting on simplicity living
Christina guided us into the heart of the evening with an invitation to break into pairs and trios. As more people slipped in through the trees, these small constellations of conversation formed and reformed with beautiful ease.
Each group held a piece of paper with five simple, luminous questions—five flames to warm the inner landscape:
What does living simply mean to me?
How do I want things to be different in 2026?
Where will I focus my energy?
Why is this important to me?
What will my life look like when I live more simply?
The woods grew thick with quiet honesty as people shared the tenderness of wanting less, needing less, and becoming more. An organic full-group conversation blossomed afterward—voices rising like sparks from a fire—about letting go, the attachments we carry, and the way sentimentality can soften when we gift what no longer serves us into grateful hands.
Mindful Walking
Ethan led us down the shadowed winter path, where each footstep became its own gentle vow. The trees stood as elders, silent and approving, as we walked our answers into the soil. Sometimes the earth is the only witness we need.
The Fire Ritual
When the group returned to the fire ring, its warmth was almost startling—small flames, fierce heart.
Shaileen guided us into our Let Go & Invite In ritual, reminding us that intention is not merely spoken; it is claimed.
She offered the playful, powerful notion that fire itself has opinions—that if our intention was thin or timid, the flames might simply shrug it off.
So one by one, as called, we stepped forward, speaking aloud what we were ready to release, and what we were brave enough to call in.
To be witnessed is a kind of magic.
To witness others is a kind of medicine.
Closing Meditation
Sunset at Lacey Woods Park
As the final glow of sunset melted into darkness, we settled into a short grounding meditation—mind, body, heart aligned with the turning year. We honored Yule’s wisdom, gave ourselves permission to rest, and let the embers echo back the truth:
Even in the leanest season, the light is already on its way home.
When the circle dissolved into night, we dispersed with warm wishes, soft laughter, and the quiet promise to carry this community into the new year.
For Those Who Could Not Join Us
The five questions above are an open doorway. Reflect on them. Walk with them. Hold them by candlelight. Let them shape the simple, spacious life you’re ready to live in 2026. You are part of this circle, whether you stand with us beneath the trees or read these words from afar.
Join Us in January
In the new year, we’ll gather again—stronger, simpler, softer—ready to welcome the returning sun and the next chapter of our collective unfolding. We hope you’ll join us.
Until then, may you rest well in the arms of winter.
May you find belonging among kindred spirits.
And may the returning light wink at you each morning,
reminding you that renewal is already underway.