The Winter Solstice ritual I wrote up is one of the ones I haven't properly practiced. It is a hard one to set up is the problem. It is very hard to get away from all noise and light, short of going out of state to a cave somewhere that probably isn't open to the public or dangerous for me without any experience spelunking. Half-measures for total sensory deprivation are ok, but I hear tell it is nothing like going deep within the bowls of the pitch black earth or having a trusted associate bury you in the earth below with a breathing tube for air. It says something about modern society when finding places of deep dark and deep silence are so very difficult to find. Spaces where the you melts away and there is only the void. Deeper meditative states can get close to that, I suppose.
Some no-self, deep meditations will be good for me this year, I think. Traditions have changed so much as far as family goes, and it is still very painful and troubling to me. The more I refine my own traditions and let the past go, the less I will dread this time of year because of it reminding me of wonderful things I have lost in the present.
... which reminds me I need a few more ingredients for my traditional Winter Solstice dish. I didn't have one before, but I am taking one from my family traditions that we used to make and doing that for solstice. A little piece of that happy past to honor it and all. Maybe I'll do the cookies this year too. The cookies were special too. The best cookies with like two sticks of butter in them. Instead of trees, I may do the snowflake shape.