Happy Winter Solstice- Whatever That Means

[Weatherman2020]

Is your inner spirit happy or sad today, what the hell is this Pagen religion believing?!

 

[Mikeoxenormous]

Is your inner spirit happy or sad today, what the hell is this Pagen religion believing?!

I think it means that this is the shortest day of the year, thus the start to the beginning of winter, where it snows, and gets REAL cold...which pisses off the global warming zelots.

win·ter sol·stice
NOUN
winter solstices (plural noun)

1. the solstice that marks the onset of winter, at the time of the shortest day, about December 22 in the northern hemisphere and June 21 in the southern hemisphere.
   • astronomy
     the solstice in December.

 

[The Irish Ram]

It is the darkest day of the year. And ironic for me. My best friend died on this day, and this was his favorite poem:
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

 

[Fort Fun Indiana]

Is your inner spirit happy or sad today, what the hell is this Pagen religion believing?!

It means we all celebrate the birth of the zombie king.

 

[OldLady]

Is your inner spirit happy or sad today, what the hell is this Pagen religion believing?!

It means the days start getting longer again. It is the shortest day of the year. That's what it means.

 

[indiajo]

Is your inner spirit happy or sad today, what the hell is this Pagen religion believing?!

Science.

 

[Weatherman2020]

It is the darkest day of the year. And ironic for me. My best friend died on this day, and this was his favorite poem:
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Seems a lot of people go this time of year, in my inner circle also. Sorry for your loss.