With the closing of the year, we allow ourselves to honor that place of stillness and peace under the strength of the evening sky. Through Yule we celebrate that stillness within ourselves; we release that gift and return back to the calmness of the Breath and to give thanks to the Great Mother.

Yule, (pronounced EWE-elle) is the rebirth of the Oak King or Sun King, Giver of Life that slowly warms the Great Mother and allows her to bear forth the Seeds of Life, the next morning at sunrise.

The Deities of Yule is all newly born Gods and Goddesses, such as Dagda and Brighid, the daughter of Dagda. Brighid taught the smiths of the arts of fire tending and the secrets of the metal arts and crafts. Brighid’s flame, like the flame of the new light, pierces through the darkness of the spirit and mind.

Other Deities births during the Yule holidays:

Here’s a tale from Iceland from the Nineteenth Century for all of the cat lovers around the fire place during the holidays.

The Yule Cat

                                        You all know the Yule Cat
                                        And that that cat was huge indeed
                                        People didn’t know where he came from
                                        or where he went.

                                        He opened his glaring eyes wide,
                                        The two of them glowing bright
                                        It took a really brave man
                                        To look straight into them.

                                        His whiskers, sharp as bristles
                                        His back arched up high.
                                        And the claws of his hairy paws
                                        Were a terrible sight.

                                        He gave a wave of his strong tail,
                                        He jumped and he clawed and he hissed.
                                        Sometimes up the valley,
                                        Sometimes down by the shore.

                                        He roamed at large, hungry and evil
                                        In the freezing  Yule snow.
                                        In every home
                                        People shuddered at his name.

                                        If one heard a pitiful “meow”
                                        Something evil would happen soon
                                        Everybody knew he hunted men
                                        But didn’t care for mice.

                                        He picked on the very poor
                                        That no new garments got
                                        For Yule – who toiled.
                                        And lived in dire need.

                                        From them he took in one fell swoop
                                        Their  whole Yule dinner
                                        Always eating it himself
                                        If he possibly could.

                                        Hence it was that the women
                                        At their spinning wheels sat
                                        Spinning a colorful thread
                                        For the frock or a sock.

                                        Because you mustn’t let the Cat
                                        Get hold of the little children.
                                        They had to get something new to wear
                                        From the grownups each year.

                                        And when the lights came on,
                                        On Yule Eve
                                        And the Cat peered in,
                                        The little children stood rosy and proud
                                        All dressed up in their new clothes.

                                        Some had gotten an apron
                                        And some had gotten shoes
                                        Or something that was needed
                                        That was all it took.

                                        For all who got something new to wear
                                        Stayed out of that pussy-cat’s grasp
                                        He then gave an awful hiss
                                        But went on his way.

                                        Whether he still exists I do not know,
                                        But his visit would be in vain
                                        If next time everybody
                                        Got something new to wear.

                                        Now you might be thinking of helping
                                        Where help is needed most.
                                        Perhaps you’ll find some children
                                        That have nothing at all.