A Dog Goddess Reflection on Seasons, Movement, and Aligned Transitions

Today is the Winter Solstice — the longest night of the year, and quietly, the return of the light.

Across cultures, species, and centuries, this moment has never been about forcing forward motion. It has been about listening. About honoring the natural intelligence that knows when to rest, when to shed, and when to move.

Dogs understand this instinctively.
So do wolves.
So do horses.
So do humans — when we allow ourselves to remember.

We are seasonal beings living in a world that often forgets seasons exist.

In nature, nothing stagnates out of politeness. Nothing stays in a place simply because it once worked. Migration is not failure. Movement is not instability. It is wisdom in motion.

Animals don’t apologize for knowing when a place no longer fits. They don’t wait until conditions become unbearable. They respond to subtle shifts long before collapse is required.

And humans?
We are animals too.

Yet somewhere along the way, we were taught that wanting change meant something was “wrong,” that moving on required justification, or that staying too long was a virtue.

It isn’t.

The Solstice reminds us that life moves in cycles — not straight lines. Some relationships last a season. Some homes hold us for a chapter. Some paths are meant to be walked, honored, and then gently released.

There is no drama in this.
There is no judgment.
Only discernment.

For those of us walking with animal companions, this truth is amplified. Dogs feel when environments shift before words ever catch up. They respond to energy, not narratives. They mirror our inner states and quietly ask us to live with greater integrity.

Right now, I am listening closely — for myself and for my dog.

Listening to what feels complete.
Listening to what is ready to be thanked and released.
Listening to what is calling us forward.

This isn’t about escape.
It’s about alignment.

Alignment with place.
Alignment with people.
Alignment with rhythm, reciprocity, and respect.

Many of us are being asked — gently but firmly — to move with the seasons of our lives, not against them. To stop expending precious energy maintaining what no longer nourishes us. To trust that making space is an act of devotion, not abandonment.

The Dog Goddess has always been about remembering our shared lineage with animals — not just in spirit, but in behavior. In trust. In timing.

The Solstice doesn’t demand answers.
It invites honesty.

So today, I honor the dark that makes rest possible.
I honor the turning that makes light return.
And I honor the quiet courage it takes to say: it is time for something more aligned to find me.

May we all listen as well as the animals do.
May we move when it is time.
And may we trust that life knows how to meet us when we do.

— Kelli
The Dog Goddess