108 Sun Salutations: A Solstice Ritual of Fire, Breath, and Return

Today is the shortest day of the year...the winter solstice...the sunrise (where I live) is at 8:15 am. The sunset will be at 4:45 pm, resulting in about 8 hours and 30 minutes of daylight....but who is counting? ☺️ Every year at the winter solstice, I return to a ritual that has become both an anchor and a mirror for me: 108 sun salutations.

I don't approach this practice as a physical challenge or a test of willpower. I approach it as a personal ritual...a way to mark a turning point in the year, and to mark something shifting inside myself as well.

The solstice reminds me that change is inevitable. Light grows or recedes. Seasons change. It's also an opportunity to let go of what no longer serves me and to make space for something new. The repetition of 108 sun salutations gives my body a practice for this transition.

In yoga philosophy, this kind of intentional effort is called "tapas." Tapas is defined as:

"the inner fire of self-discipline that purifies the body and mind, burning away impurities....manifesting as committed practice, pushing through challenges, and focused effort on the mat to build inner strength and clarity."

Tapas can also simply be translated as “heat,” but not the harsh, punishing kind. It is the cleansing fire of steady commitment. The kind of effort that burns away stagnation, old patterns, and stress...leaving clarity behind.

I welcomed the light yesterday....a day earlier...mostly for organizational reasons and so I can do these with a friend! During the 108 sun salutations (I counted silently in my head), I moved continuously for about 40 minutes. In that time, I took 540 deep cleansing. Breath after breath, movement after movement, the mind gradually stopped negotiating, judging, or resisting. There was simply the next inhale, the next exhale.

And something surprising always happens...

Even though the practice is physically demanding, my nervous system does not end up in fight-or-flight. Instead, I feel my parasympathetic nervous system come online. My breath deepens. My thoughts soften. My body feels worked but not pushed. For the rest of the day, I felt a deep sense of ease in my mind and my body.

This is one of the quiet miracles of mindful movement. When effort is matched with attention and breath, the body understands that it is not under threat. The repetition becomes soothing. The rhythm becomes regulating. Stress does not get pushed away; it gets metabolized.

By the end, I felt as though I had burned through layers of tension I did not even know I was carrying. Not just muscular tension, but mental and emotional residue as well. What remained was a sense of steadiness, deep presence and gratitude for this practice that does so much for my mind, heart and body.

108 is a symbolic number in yoga, but for me, it is less about the number and more about the devotion to staying. Staying with the breath. Staying through waves of effort and ease.

This solstice ritual reminds me that transformation does not always come from doing more. Sometimes it comes from doing one simple thing, with full attention, again and again, until something essential reveals itself or is released.

When I finally rested, lying still, heart beating, breath calmed, I felt cleansed, not emptied. Tired, but nourished...a return to balance, and ease.