Now that Christmas Day has passed, I always notice a gentle shift.
The rush softens.
The house feels quieter.
The energy changes.
It’s in these days after Christmas when the wrapping paper is gone and the food is slowly being eaten as leftovers and the new year is approaching that I feel most reflective. Like the real meaning rises once the noise settles.
Christmas, for me, has never been about a single belief or a single story. It feels more like a tapestry woven from ancient rituals, spiritual symbolism, family traditions, and something much older than religion alone.
And when I sit with it that way, Christmas becomes less about a date… and more about remembrance.
The Darkest Days and the Return of the Light
Long before Christmas had a name, humans were watching the sky.
They noticed how, each year, the sun sank lower and lower until the days became shorter, darker, heavier. Then almost imperceptibly everything paused.
For a few days, the sun appeared to stand still in the heavens.
And then, around what we now call December 25, it began to rise again.
The Winter Solstice celebrated by the Pagans marked the darkest point of the year not as something to fear, but something to honour. Because after the darkness came the return of light.
Ancient cultures gathered not to celebrate excess, but to acknowledge survival, continuity, and hope. Fires were lit. Evergreen branches were brought inside. Life was symbolically invited back into the home.
That idea, that light always follows darkness still feels like the beating heart of Christmas to me.
The Evergreen Tree and the Language of Symbolism
The Christmas tree, too, carries an older story. It actually comes straight from these pagan solstice traditions.
Evergreens were sacred because they stayed alive when everything else appeared to die. Bringing them indoors was a quiet declaration: life continues.
They were adorned with offerings of dried fruit, nuts, handmade symbols of gratitude not decoration for decoration’s sake, but meaning made visible.
Our ornaments may look different now, but the essence remains. We’re still gathering around a living symbol, still telling ourselves the same ancient story in a new language.
Santa, Shamans, and the Spirit of Winter
Somewhere along the way, another figure joined the story.
Beyond Saint Nicholas and folklore, there’s an older, more mystical thread, one that traces back to Northern shamanic traditions. Shamans were spiritual guides during winter, moving between worlds at the darkest time of year to bring reassurance, wisdom, and healing.
They were often described wearing thick red and white ceremonial garments, layered and heavy, entering homes through smoke holes when doorways were buried in snow, carrying gifts not of toys, but of insight and blessing.
It’s interesting how these images echo, chimneys, red suits, journeys through the night sky.
And then there are the red mushrooms with white spots, growing beneath pine trees, appearing again and again in winter imagery. Used ceremonially, they were said to open perception, soften boundaries, and invite connection with something beyond the visible world.
Whether taken literally or symbolically, the message feels familiar: Christmas has long been associated with altered awareness, a thinning of the veil, a remembering of something sacred.
Stockings and Sacred Mushrooms
One of my favourite little Christmas traditions is hanging stockings by the fireplace (Here in New Zealand it’s summer so the aircon unit. 😅) may actually have roots in ancient shamanic practices. In some Siberian traditions, shamans would dry Amanita muscaria mushrooms by the fire after harvest, making them ready for their journeys into the spirit world. Somehow, centuries later, we hang stockings in the same space, and I love imagining that small thread connecting our cozy family rituals to something so ancient and mysterious.
Was Jesus Really Born on Christmas Day?
When I reflect on Jesus or Yeshua, I don’t feel a need to anchor him to December 25.
Even the biblical details quietly suggest otherwise.
Shepherds watching their flocks overnight point to warmer seasons. Travel for a census aligns more easily with spring or early autumn. Many scholars suggest a birth closer to September, a time rich in symbolism around dwelling, light, and divine presence.
So why December?
When Christianity spread through Rome, existing solstice celebrations weren’t erased they were reframed. The rebirth of the sun became the arrival of Christ. Light returning to the world became salvation made flesh.
And while I don’t believe this marks Jesus’ literal birthday, the symbolism still resonates deeply.
Christ Consciousness and the Rising Light
For me, Christ consciousness isn’t about dates or doctrine.
It’s about embodiment, just as Jesus/Yeshua him self was embodiment of god.
Living by Christ consciousness means choosing love over fear. Compassion over judgment. Unity over separation. It’s the remembering that divinity isn’t something outside of us it’s something we’re invited to live.
Jesus didn’t come to be celebrated once or twice a year. He came to show what humanity could look like when it lives from the heart.
And in that way, the solstice story and the Christ story mirror each other beautifully.
After darkness, light rises.
After stillness, awakening follows.
Christmas in the Southern Hemisphere: A Different Rhythm
Living in the Southern Hemisphere, much of traditional Christmas imagery feels slightly out of place. It’s summer here in New Zealand. The earth is alive. The days are long.
So Christmas feels less like winter rebirth and more like gratitude.
It feels like a form of thanksgiving.
It’s about family gathered, children’s laughter, shared meals, and simple rituals that carry meaning. One of my favourites is my mum’s tradition of making homemade jams, pickles, and preserves each year for the family members as gifts.
It’s quiet. Practical. Full of love.
And it feels closer to the original spirit of Christmas than anything wrapped in plastic ever could.
Remembering What Matters
Christmas has become loud and commercial. Busy and expensive.
But beneath it all, the story remains.
A story humans have told for thousands of years in different forms, in different traditions, under different names.
That light returns.
That love endures.
That even in the darkest moments, something sacred is still alive.
And sometimes I wonder, if we looked within, what would Jesus, or Yeshua, actually want us to celebrate?
I don’t think it would be perfection or performance.
I think it would be presence.
Kindness.
Togetherness.
Love in action.
And maybe that’s enough.
Let me know in the comments what Christmas means to you. And as always, if you feel drawn to connect you can contact me here.
Love & Light,
J♡
