The Darkest Weekend of the Year

And Why Your Grief Doesn’t Need Fixing…

What if you didn’t have to fix “sad”?

This weekend, we enter the darkest days of 2025.
For those of us living in the northern hemisphere, the winter solstice arrives on December 21st, and with it comes a new moon. So the shortest daylight hours of the year coincide with the darkest night, with no moonlight to shine its light into the darkness.
A rare convergence where even the sky holds no light to guide us.

No sun.
No moon.
Just the vast, velvet darkness.

For those of us who carry grief, this weekend lands differently.

Another Year Further Away

As the year ends, you find yourself one more day further from what you've lost.
One more year away from the life you thought you'd be living.

Never thought I would be here, you whisper.
And yet here I am. Again.
At the end of another year.

The distance feels unfathomable sometimes.
Like standing on one shore, watching the other disappear into fog.

And somewhere in the background, well-meaning voices murmur:

“They wouldn’t want you spending your time being sad.”

And yet here you are.
Still sad.
Still grieving in a world that wants you to hurry up and heal.

What If Sad Is Just... Sad?

What if you didn’t have to fix it?

What if you could just be sad—
and then be glad.
And sometimes be mad (or frustrated, or gutted, or irate).

What if your emotions didn’t need to be managed, optimized, or moved past—
but simply named and witnessed?

Emotions matter.
And naming matters.

Because you are still alive.
And whoever or whatever you lost isn’t.

And that creates vast, sprawling emotions that travel alongside every step of this path.

Not one path.
Your path.

What If Darkness Has Gifts?

The new moon brings no light from the moon.
The solstice brings the least light from the sun.

This convergence invites us into something our culture rarely honors:

A time of reflection.
Of listening inward.
Of nurturing and protecting.

The Moon has been full and empty, bright and dark, visible and hidden for billions of years.
She has never stayed in one phase forever.
She has never apologized for returning to darkness.

Perhaps darkness has gifts that light cannot give.
Perhaps in the emptiness, you find space for something new to grow.
Perhaps in the silence, you hear wisdom drowned out by daylight noise.

Saturn's Triple Pass

There’s more cosmic energy at play this season.

Saturn has just stationed direct after months of retrograde,
and now we’re bump-bump-bumping along a well-trodden path.

Picture this: Saturn stepped into Aries—
then reversed and slipped back into Pisces,
like forgetting your phone at the party you just left and having to go back for it.

You retrace your steps,
moving backwards across scenery you’ve just maneuvered.
Familiar, but disorienting in reverse.

And now?
Saturn stations direct.
It begins to travel forward again, passing over the same terrain—for the third time.

But this time, you have your phone.
This time, you’re not rushing ahead unprepared.
You’re not retracing your steps in confusion.
You’re moving forward—equipped—across ground you’ve walked twice before.

The scenery hasn’t changed.
But maybe now you’re actually paying attention.

Saturn doesn’t rush forward.
It rewalks the terrain until the wisdom sinks into our bones.

And this third pass?
It’s not a punishment.
It’s a lantern in the dark.

To notice what we missed before.
To recognize how we’ve grown.
To receive the lesson, not just survive the loop.

Something in you has shifted this year.
Now is the time to reflect on that shifting.

Where are you being asked to revisit—before you rise?

The Question That Remains

Mary Oliver asked it best:

“What do you want to do with your one wild and precious life?”

But maybe, for those of us who grieve, the question sounds a little different:

What do you want to do with your one precious life—the one that looks nothing like you thought it would, and is accompanied by fewer people than you imagined?

This isn’t a question to answer quickly.
It’s a question to be lived into.
Slowly.
In the darkest days of the year.

A Gentle Invitation

I wonder, as we approach this darkest weekend—
what might it stir in you?

Your chart may already know what your heart is carrying.
Your Moon, Saturn, and Chiron—what I call the Sacred Triangle—hold ancient wisdom
about how you move through grief, find your ground,
and discover the healing that’s already unfolding within you.

Not someone else’s way.
Your way.

When you're ready to explore how this season is echoing through your Moon, Saturn, and Chiron...
I have space for a few more grief astrology sessions before the year turns.

Learn about Sacred Triangle readings here.

You’re not late. You’re not behind. You’re right on time.

A Tiny Ritual for This Weekend

On the solstice, step outside into the darkness—
even for just a moment.

Look up.

Notice what’s missing (the moon, the light).
Notice what’s present (the stars, the quiet, you).

Whisper to yourself:

Sometimes darkness is just darkness. And that’s enough.
I’m enough, even in the dark.

With light in the darkness, and darkness in the light,
Debra