Kindling a Fire on Cold Nights



I sat in front of the cold woodstove. We hadn’t had a fire since last season, so it took me a minute to remember the rhythm. I kindled the small flame with dried orange scraps and then I fed it—bit by bit.

I built the fire thoughtfully, working my way through the wood until I began to feel the heat nudge off the stove, like a cat butting their head into my thigh. Soon the room would be warmed from wall to wall, but for now, I was simply tending the flame.

Cheer is like this. 

We talk so much about this season as one of cheer, and yet we often don’t acknowledge what cheer actually is.

Cheer isn’t automatic positivity. It isn’t inbred happiness or joy. It isn’t even the result of good fortune. Cheer is something you cultivate. It is a fire you must kindle, stick by stick, with your willingness to build something warm. Cheer is a verb.

These weeks leadings up to the winter solstice are known as a season for cheer not because they are innately joyful, but because it’s a time when our ancestors specifically chose to cultivate cheer. To light candles in the dark. To pour a cup of tea and watch the stars sharpen on the horizon. Because building cheer is like building a fire—it’s how we have the resilience to meet the rest of winter.

I remind myself of this on the mornings I don’t want to build a fire in the stove. On the nights when the world feels too heavy and hope too small. On the days when I feel almost guilty for wanting to create cheer at all—I remember that this is exactly why the holidays exist.

During the darkest time of the year, when our ancestors would have been looking ahead to many uncertain nights, the celebration of the solstice was one of kindling belief. Of building cheer, branch by branch, until it’s a bonfire. A bonfire that can warm the whole house of your heart, emanating out into the world. 

So what are the things that help you cultivate cheer, dear one? 

For me cheer looks like baking cookies while I watch holiday movies. 

 It’s turning off all the other lights in the house and just sitting in front of the Christmas tree for a spell. 

 It’s collecting pine needles for vitamin rich tea, concocting seasonal potions, and thinking of ways I can surprise people in my life with spontaneous acts of care. 

Whatever brings cheer to your heart on these long nights dear one, give yourself permission to cultivate it this season.

Let these comforts be the kindling that warms you again from the inside out.

Because no matter what sparks your cheer, just by kindling it, you bring light to this world.

If you want a bit of earth-made cheer, check out our apothecary or collection of earth-steeped online courses. I even have a whole class devoted to the natural magic of this time of year called Holiday Magic & Medicine Making. Take a listen and infuse your holiday time with herbal mysticism.