Divination: In the Shadow of the Solstice - Practical Divination in the Season of Stillness

By Melanie Paquette

The winter solstice marks the longest night of the year, a turning point in the natural cycle.

The darkness reaches its peak before crossing the threshold into the increasing light. And although the solstice is that point at which the light starts to return again, most of us think of this time as steeped in darkness - there’s plenty more winter to come and it will be months before we have more daylight than darkness.

The word shadow carries an unfair weight.

These days, most people seek out the light. We’ve been conditioned to believe that all that is good comes from the light. People talk about shadow and darkness as if these are things to be avoided, eliminated, or repressed. We talk about our shadow aspects as the things we don’t like about ourselves. We’ve forgotten the older meaning of shadow: “to protect as if with covering wings”. The light can be harsh - anyone who has felt the sting of a sunburn knows that light can burn. Shadow and darkness provide protection when protection is needed.

Divination is a practice that many see as dark and shadowy. The act of trying to tell what the future holds for us is shrouded in mystery.

The use of tools like cards and pendulums seems to add to that mystery. There was a time though, when divination was primarily a practical endeavour. Our ancestors turned to the world around them - nature, the elements, animals, and even their own bodies - for signs and guidance. Divination was as much a part of daily life as preparing the fire or storing food for the cold months ahead. Our ancestors looked to the behaviour of animals, the colour of the sky, or the sound of the wind to know what kind of weather to prepare for. They watched for connections between seemingly unrelated things. If there were enough occurrences of seeing four crows together followed by an announcement of a pregnancy, seeing four crows became a sign to expect a new member to be born into the community. Many of these practices persist today, though we may not see them as divination. My grandmother used to say that when the wind turned the leaves, it meant rain was coming. In February, we wait to see if the groundhog sees its shadow to know how much more winter is ahead of us. 

The true purpose of divination is not to predict the future, but to become aware of the messages around and within us that have gone unnoticed. The value of divination is not in knowing the future it predicts, but in the decisions and actions we take once we’re aware of what might lie ahead. 

The world around us is always speaking, offering signs and whispers that often go unnoticed. To listen, we must pause and pay attention. With all of the amenities our modern world offers, we may not have to rely on the signs from nature to tell us what sort of weather to prepare for. And yet it seems like that practical skill of taking guidance from our surroundings is being lost. I’d like to reclaim that, even if only in some small way. The winter solstice invites us into a season of stillness, reflection, and listening - a perfect time to notice the unseen and hear the quiet messages the world - and our own lives - are offering us. Divination isn’t just about pulling cards or casting runes; it is also about tuning into the everyday and finding meaning in what might otherwise pass us by.

As I prepared this article, I decided to pause and observe my own environment.

Here’s what stood out to me and the messages they hold for navigating the season’s darkness and stillness.

In the quiet moments of writing, I became aware of the sound of a small cuckoo clock ticking. Though it is always present, I only hear it when I stop typing, talking, or thinking. Its steady rhythm reminds me that time is always moving forward, even when it feels like I’m standing still. The ticking reminds me that winter is a season that asks us to slow down and honour the rhythm of time. It guides me to make space to discover the magic that can be found in moments of intentional stillness, to trust the process of progress - tick by tick, step by step, and to be patient with what feels unresolved; clarity comes in its own time.

The clock’s message is simple but profound: what we don’t notice in the rush of daily life may become clear when we pause.

My cat, Star, has a habit of positioning herself at my feet as I write. She purrs, rolls, and grooms herself, a comforting presence anchoring me in the moment. Yet she doesn’t stay still for long - she comes in and out of the room repeatedly, her rhythm mirroring the ebb and flow of my own focus. Her behaviour reflects the natural rhythms of in-betweenness. Winter is not a season of pure stillness but one of cycles - resting and moving, coming and going. Her positioning at my feet reminds me to stay grounded, while her movement invites me to honour the push and pull of winter energy. She guides me to notice when I’m being called to both settle and move - it’s okay to shift between rest and activity.

Star reminds us that both rest and activity are needed - there’s no perfect balance - it’s about finding a natural rhythm in the small cycles of each day.  

Then, my son came to ask me about money to pay for some recent dental work. A reminder that my role as a provider continues, even as my children are on the threshold of independent, adult lives. In the broader sense, this interaction shows how sharing resources is central to survival. In the old ways, communities were interdependent - our ancestors would have relied on each other to share food, warmth, and wisdom. There was an expectation of reciprocity - of asking for and receiving help. 

My son’s request for help is a reminder that giving and receiving are threads that weave connection and strengthen community.

The messages I’ve found in my surroundings are simple, but they remind me that divination doesn’t have to be complicated. It’s about noticing what draws your attention and reflecting on the guidance it offers.

On solstice, I invite you to try taking a moment to tune into your surroundings. Did you notice something that’s been there all along? Draw a connection that you’ve not seen before? Consider how these insights can guide you as you navigate the stillness and shadow of the season.

As we celebrate the solstice, remember that darkness and shadow offer protection.

The seeds of spring lie dormant beneath the snow. The dreams of tomorrow are born in the long, quiet nights of winter. And the shadow is where the unseen begins to take form. So, look to the shadows, to the signs that surround you, and to the wisdom that waits quietly to be revealed. And of course, draw some cards to see what comes up too - it never hurts to add some magic to everyday things!

Happy solstice!

Melanie hosts workshops and offers Tarot readings. Check out her offerings on our website.