Three days after the 28 degree Sagittarius New Moon, the Sun pauses.  On December 21, it enters 0 degrees of Capricorn, a turning point celebrated in the northern hemisphere as Winter Solstice.

The Sun reaches its southernmost point and appears to stand still—the ancient meaning of solstice. In that stillness, something subtle but real begins: the slow return of light. Even in difficult years, this turning point whispers the same message across centuries and cultures: Do not despair; renewal is already on its way.

Many traditions describe this moment as a single golden ray piercing winter’s heaviness. But the Solstice doesn’t ask us to make anything happen. Its invitation is simpler: be present. Let the new light find you. Notice the way it touches your world—your kitchen, your garden, your quiet morning chair—and let gratitude rise naturally.

At Solstice, the Sun enters Capricorn, the sign often misunderstood as stern and austere. But Capricorn’s mysteries run deeper. It carries the paradox of the mountain, bringing both hardships and unimaginable grace. There’s discipline and responsibility, but also blessings and a deep, sustaining abundance. Its light isn’t flashy. Capricorn’s light is patient and steady, earned over time, and it warms from within.

Its ancient emblem, surprisingly, is not the stoic goat we imagine today, but the Horn of Plenty.

The Horn of Plenty: A Solstice Myth for the Heart

Long before Capricorn became an earthbound sign of ambition and endurance, it held a very different meaning. In Greek legend, the baby Zeus was nursed by a sacred goat, Amalthea. When he broke off one of her horns in play, he blessed it with a divine promise: it would forever overflow with whatever she desired. Later, Zeus placed this Cornucopia among the stars as the constellation we now know as Capricorn.

Again, we meet this beautiful paradox:
the sign most associated with effort is rooted in a myth of effortless wealth.

The priestesses of ancient Greece saw the goat as a creature of life-giving nourishment. Its curved horn echoed the crescent moon, linking Capricorn to the Great Goddess—the one who feeds, shelters, protects, and restores.

This Solstice, when the Sun’s strength is at its most fragile, we can draw from the same well.

A Solstice Practice: Filling the Inner Cornucopia

If the season has left you depleted—emotionally, financially, energetically—try this gentle practice. It is a way to reorient toward inner wealth, the kind that cannot be touched by circumstance. It takes only a minute or two, but it can soften the whole day.

1. Light a candle.

A tiny flame is enough. Let it symbolize the fresh arc of light beginning its upward journey.

2. Picture a horn of plenty inside your chest.

See it glowing like a small sun. Let it brim with everything that sustains life:
warmth, nourishment, kindness, clarity, rest, safety, laughter, friendship, beauty, health, shelter, hope.
Picture these not as abstract concepts, but as living things—food on a table, a warm coat, a friend’s hand in yours, a moment of peace.

3. Now imagine these material images transforming.

They become qualities of the heart: generosity, stability, compassion, courage.
Let them stream outward—to loved ones, to strangers, to the weary and burdened.
Not through force, but through overflow.

4. Return to this image whenever the season feels overwhelming.

It is a quiet anchor amid the bustle. A reminder that abundance first forms as warmth in the heart, long before it appears in the world.

The Promise of Light

Solstice is the oldest holy day on earth—not because it marks the longest night, but because it marks the first small turning toward dawn. And the teaching of this day is simple:

Life renews itself.
What has felt heavy will begin to lift.
What seemed final may reveal itself as a threshold.

Stand still with the Sun.
Let its newborn light illuminate your inner temple.
Give thanks for what is returning—even if you cannot yet see it fully.

If you’d like to explore the archetypes in even greater depth, if you like to journal and/or muse on the positions of the Sun and Moon, you may enjoy enrolling in my Moon workshop (by snail-mail or email). It’s designed to deepen your relationship with the guardians of natural time, the Sun, the Moon, and the zodiac.