Santa Lucia and the Missing Plates: Finding Sight in the Longest Night

The light is going to be born again.

Holiday time is approaching at light speed. Can you feel it? The pressure of tradition, the unspoken demand that we synchronize our calendars to meet family and friends on a specific date, regardless of how we actually feel. It is telling that we try to force joy into a schedule.

It is rarely a light moment, despite the fairy lights in the streets.

We are currently in the darkest moment of the year. I’ve been thinking about December 13th, the feast of Santa Lucia. While famously celebrated in Sweden with crowns of candles to break the winter night, and in parts of Italy, her story is less known here in the UK. She is the saint prayed to for the protection of the eyes, the guardian of sight. Curiously, in the ancient calendar (before the Gregorian shift in 1582), her feast day coincided with the Winter Solstice, the literal shortest day and longest night.

I find this synchronicity profound. Just when the world is at its darkest, we are asked to protect our "sight." To look clearly.

But what do we see when we look clearly in the darkness during this festive time?

Christmas is perhaps the only moment of the year where we sit with family and, inevitably, we count the missing plates. We see the gaps left by those we have lost, the relationships that have ended, and the silence where there used to be laughter. The grief that we might busily ignore the rest of the year pulls up a chair and sits right next to us.

It is also the moment where returning home can feel like suddenly sliding back into the past. Have you ever walked through your parents' door and felt yourself shrinking? We often revert to an earlier, less updated version of ourselves—the rebellious teenager or the silenced child—forgetting the adult work we have done. We step back into old patterns as if they were old slippers: comfortable, perhaps, but worn out and no longer supportive.

While we approach the change of season and the true Winter Solstice, we find ourselves wondering about a circle that is closing.

This is the Ouroboros of the year. The end is the beginning. The darkest night is also the turning point toward the light being born again.

So, for this holiday season, my wish for you is to channel the spirit of Santa Lucia. Not necessarily to light candles, but to protect your eyes.

To have the courage to see the missing plates and honour the grief they bring.

To see yourself as you are now, not who you were ten years ago, when you walk into that family gathering.

To look into the dark with compassion, knowing that the light is returning, even if it feels far away.

To welcome change, and to be in tune with your needs as they evolve. What worked for the last five years might not work anymore; may you give yourself permission to change your plans accordingly.

We are closing a circle and opening a new one. The hopes, the fears, and the dreams are all valid passengers on this transition.

If you are finding the "missing plates" too heavy to bear alone this season, or if feeling small again in old family dynamics is leaving you feeling lost, remember that therapy can be the place where you regain your sight.

Breathe. The light is going to be born again.