This is the season of hope—the slow return of the light. Astrologically, the days lengthen after the solstice at first imperceptibly until spring brings forth the promise of abundance coming. Intrinsically, it is the season that honors the human journey through darkness and the illumination that follows – wisdom shaped by a twilight path whose shadows can seem to diminish the light.
Hope is often imagined as something gentle, a candle flickering against the cold. But Mother Deer teaches us that hope is not passive. Hope must be enacted. It is a flame that rises because intention fuels it. Each of us carries that flame, the potential for hope to burn brightly, manifesting care for ourselves and each other.
The Story of Mother Deer
The story of Mother Deer comes to us from the Sámi people, who live in what is now Scandinavia and Russia’s Kola Peninsula. They are the descendants of many ancient northern cultures who once moved with the reindeer herds across vast, snowy lands.
For millennia, the Deer Mother has been revered. In her Goddess aspect she is Beaivi (pronounced Bay-vee). Her presence is woven into every part of Sámi life: milk, food, clothing, shelter, and survival. She is the one who leads the herd. Unlike the male reindeer, she keeps her antlers all winter—symbolizing protection, strength, and continuity through the dark and cold.
As Goddess, She embodies fertility, motherhood, regeneration, and rebirth. A healer. A guide. The first Shaman. On the winter solstice, Mother Deer flies across the black sky, bringing the life-giving sunlight back to her people and teaching that even in our darkest seasons, hope persists—glowing like a flame or quietly awakening like a seed ready to root and rise.
When the People Knew Deepest Darkness
Once, the people lived in a deep relationship with spirit. They understood that life moved in cycles and that spirit lived within everything—animals, plants, water, wind, and themselves. Wisdom was shared freely. The ones called healers and diviners worked with spirit to guide the people and keep them in right relationship with the earth and all the beings that depended on her.
This harmony lasted until the people began to imagine themselves as separate from spirit.
They made artificial lights so bright they drowned out the stars, and in that false light their shadows grew large. Seeing their shadows as giants, they began to believe they themselves were great and set apart. What was once shared among all beings was taken by the strongest, and to keep these things, they waged terrible war.
Fear spread. Parents taught their children to bow their heads and distrust their own knowing. Those who had once worked with spirit turned away and insisted the people follow only the word of man.
And so the word of man sought to destroy the old ways—burning the books, the bodies, and the bridges between worlds. The land suffered. The waters sickened. The air grew heavy. Creatures vanished. People grew ill in their separation from spirit.
Yet spirit is not so easily extinguished.
Before the forgetting, spirit gifted every person a tiny seed. Hidden. Quiet. Waiting. And though the people grew sicker, the seed endured.
The Seeds Begin to Wake
In time, some people could no longer ignore the call within themselves. Their seeds stirred. They remembered that spirit speaks in the quiet, in intuition, in the inner knowing that cannot be taught but can be remembered.
These people began to teach once again.
Others listened—cautiously at first—and found themselves waking too. Their seeds cracked open and rooted deeply. Each person came into relationship with spirit in their own way, and the ways were many, and the ways were all good.
Spirit is called by countless names. Spirit speaks in countless voices. The wise teach that spirit is one, expressed through many forms, and so the people learned to rejoice in both their unity and their differences.
Their many hands began to do the work—different work, the necessary and needed work. And the work is good.
And So, On This Solstice Night…
As our ancestors once did, we sit in darkness. Not as a void, not as a threat, but as a cradle—a place where spirit can speak, where seeds can stir, where remembering becomes possible.
For Mother Deer flies tonight!
May Her antlers guide the light back into your heart.
May Her teachings remind you that hope is not merely felt—it is lived.
And may the seed within you awaken, rooted and rising.
An Invitation
If this story speaks to you, you may enjoy our guided meditation, Return of the Sun, created as a companion to the season of hope.
Listen here: Return of the Sun – Guided Meditation
Leslie Rice—GHC Volunteer Staff Writer
Disclaimer: The information shared in Greensboro Holistic Collective posts is intended for educational and informational purposes only. It is not a substitute for professional medical, mental health, or legal advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the guidance of a qualified healthcare provider or professional with any questions you may have regarding your health, well-being, or specific situation. Never disregard or delay seeking professional advice because of information you read here. Greensboro Holistic Collective does not endorse any specific practitioners, services, or products mentioned, and participation in any activities is at your own discretion.
Join Our Community Newsletter
Local events, wellness insights, and offerings—occasional, thoughtful, spam-free.
We respect your privacy. Privacy Policy