Spiritual & Practical Reasons to Have an Artificial Yule Tree was originally published to The Balancing Path column on Patheos Pagan, on December 7, 2020. It is presented here with some edits from the original.

At first glance it may seem counter-intuitive to include a plastic tree as a sincere spiritual component of a holy day like Yule, but it makes sense to me, especially given my life circumstances.  Despite that, I do love live trees at the holidays!  They smell great, brighten a room, and are full of energy that comes from being alive!  At the same time, it never made sense to me to celebrate life by cutting down a Yule tree (or a Christmas tree) in the prime of its life.  Some of that is likely the animist in me hanging out, but I do believe there is more to my reluctance than just animism.

My Early Years

When I was a child, in the week or two after Thanksgiving my entire family of five would hop in the family car and drive out to a Christmas tree farm.  We would comb the property, often trekking all the way to the very back in search of the best possible tree, one that was shaped nicely and had as few gaps in the foliage as possible.  Once we found our chosen tree, we would take turns sawing the trunk by hand as close to the ground as possible, drag it home, put it in a holder with water, and decorate it with every clashing ornament we owned.

I did love those trees, and the scent and atmosphere they brought into my family’s home.  It truly did feel like magic, with the promise of caring and love and holiday cheer, especially as the presents would accumulate beneath the branches in preparation for the Big Day.

By the time Christmas came, the tree was usually looking a little dry and sad.  It still smelled of sap, but not the bright aroma of fresh sap it had when it was first brought home.  It was dying, slowly and inexorably.

My mother feared the tree catching fire, so it was rare for the tree to be lit much after Christmas day.  Yet it usually remained in the livingroom until well after New Year’s Day, a victim of, “I’ll get to that later,” until the tree holder was long dried out and the needles were all turning brown and littering the floor.  Once the ornaments were finally all removed and stashed away for the year, it went outside to continue dying beside the garbage cans, strands of silver plastic tinsel still clinging to the branches.

There was at least one year the tree sat dehydrating in the livingroom until after Valentine’s Day.  In that year and others, it was taken out too late to be collected on the curb for recycling, so its dead form would languish by the side of the house for months, regarded as nothing more than an eye sore and potential fire hazard.

Using Death to Celebrate Life

When I was still very young, it began to deeply bother me that we were killing a tree to celebrate the birth of Jesus.  It felt profoundly wrong, but not because I was afraid of death.  Death has always felt comfortably inevitable to me, as a necessary and omnipresent part of the cycle of life.

It bothered me because killing those trees was unnecessary.  It was frivolous and selfish, and my family had no appreciation for the sacrifices of those lives.  Each year a tree was brought into the home for its beauty, and when that beauty had waned, it was thoughtlessly discarded.  There was no gratitude or thanks, only irritation at the bother of disposing of the body.

There are ways in which death can be included to celebrate life, especially during this darkest time of the year, but that was not it.  Instead, the way my family handled the deaths of those trees showed a complete disregard for the sanctity of life, and made a mockery of the spiritual theme of the celebrations.

The trees had to die because they were a status symbol, part of the commercialization of Christmas.  They signified that my parents had made it to middle class status in society, and they were capable of being proper consumers modeled after all those holiday specials on TV.

Of course, at the time I did not grasp all of that.  I was a child with limited spiritual education and no philosophical education, who did not consciously understand the genuine root of their discomfort.  Yet, I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that we were killing trees to celebrate the birth of a deity I had been taught represented life, love, and salvation.  I explained that as best I could, but to no avail.

My mother was sympathetic.  She had never thought of it that way, and after some contemplation agreed that it seemed wrong to kill trees for Christmas, but my father and brothers found the idea of an artificial tree unacceptable.  They loved the tradition of finding the perfect Christmas tree as a family, and the presence of the real tree in the livingroom.  I suggested buying a small potted pine tree to plant after New Year’s, but my father did not want that kind of tree on the property.  My brothers were both appalled that I wanted to shortchange them away from the 6’-8’ tall trees we usually cut down.  Their only concern was the bigger the better.

When my brothers and I were all in our teens, we started to forgo the tree farm excursions in exchange for the convenience of a tree lot, but a dying tree remained the centerpiece of my family’s holiday celebrations.

Connecting with Yule as an Adult

In my 20’s, my Yule celebrations were usually modest, and took place at the home of my partner’s parents.  Her mother never had a tree because she was too practical to want the bother or mess, but in that house, we did not need a Yule tree to feel the spirit of the holiday.  The love and the caring were sincere, and that carried through in everything we did, without needing a massive performative centerpiece.

It was not until I was in my 30’s that I worried about getting a Yule tree.  Our first Yule tree was a modest four-foot black plastic tree with red lights.  My partner and I had both lamented for years how much we wanted a Yule tree, even though we had never bothered to get one.  The black and red tree amused me and warmed my partner’s gothy heart, so we caved to desire and purchased it.

Environmental and Practical Concerns

Part of my spirituality involves being conscientious of the environment, but having the ability to be fully environmentally responsible is a privilege most people do not have, including myself.  We each have to weigh our concerns against our available options, and do the best we can.

Live trees in the United States are mostly grown on tree farms in a sustainable way, which does make them a much more environmentally responsible choice than artificial trees.  However, depending upon your situation, live trees can be incredibly impractical.  If you are in a small home or apartment, it can be hard to fit even a small live tree.  A live tree of any size needs to have floor space, whereas an artificial tree can go just about anywhere as long as the ceiling is high enough for it.  If you do not own a large car (many people do not own a car at all), it can also be a nightmare to get a live tree home from the lot or farm.

Artificial trees are not environmentally ideal, because they are horrifying to dispose of, and manufacturing them also generates a lot of pollution.  However, if they are well cared for, they can last for decades.  Long-term use eases some of that environmental burden.  It also eases the financial burden of decorating for Yule.  The biggest downside is that you do need a place to safely store them.  If you are not reusing your artificial tree each year, I hope you are passing it on to someone else who will.

When you have a reusable tree, you do not need to spend the cash on a new tree every year.  That may not matter for a lot of people, but if you have a year where that $50+ for a live tree is simply not available, the spot where a live tree would normally be can easily ruin the magic of the season with its grim reminder of financial hardship.  And yes, as a disabled person on fixed income, I cannot count on having the money for a live tree even if I wanted one.  I know I am far from alone in that insecurity.

Not only that, but the artificial tree genuinely is far less mess and bother.  As a disabled person who cannot keep up with normal household chores on a consistent basis, the idea of watering and cleaning up after a dying pine tree is frankly overwhelming.  They are heavy and awkward.  It is easy to overfill or spill water, or fail to water enough.  Cats like to play with decorative trees, which can cause a lot more damage with a heavy live tree.  Artificial trees can still fall over, and they do drop bits of plastic, but on the whole they are nowhere near the mess or trouble of live trees.  At the end of the Yule season they are easy to pack up and put away, without the need to beg someone else to drag a dead tree out to the curb because I am not physically capable of doing it myself.

Thanks to tree farming, the environmentally preferential option is obviously the live tree, but practical concerns matter as well.  It is classist and ableist to decry the artificial tree solely because of the environment.  Even if killing a tree for Yule did not bother me, I would still likely have artificial trees because of practical concerns.

The Symbolic Importance of Cutting off the Roots

Symbolism matters, especially when you are talking about the centerpiece of a holy day like the winter solstice.  I may no longer observe the birth of Christ, but I still believe in observing Yule as a celebration of life.  It is the darkest time of the year, when nature is more quiet, refreshing itself so it can be ready to yeet forth abundant life in the spring.  It is a time of ever-present death, transformation, long chilly nights, and renewal, all of which are necessary for the continuation of life.

Last year it was especially important for me to rest in the darkness, but that resting and that darkness are present every year.  It can be profoundly healing and rejuvenating to dig down deep as so many plants and animals do this time of year.  Much of that rejuvenation is possible because of perspective granted by understanding what has passed from the world, which in turn leads into what is yet to come.  What has passed is part of our roots, the foundation which we can clean up, repair, transform, and rebuild in preparation for something new.

Death can be an important part of Yule observations, but cutting off roots is not.

When you cut down a tree, you are separating it from its roots.  Those roots remain in the ground where it grew, and it is the visible part of the tree which is transported into a home to be decorated.  Symbolically, that dying Yule tree is the visible and the known, divorced from at least half of what gave it life and meaning.

If we forget about those roots or disregard their necessity for a tree to be healthy, the Yule tree too easily becomes a status symbol of that poisonous superficial consumerism I witnessed each year as a child.  It can become a symbol of spiritual bypassing, of a refusal to acknowledge the presence of death, or look at the difficult things in life that are dark or scary or intimidating.  In ignoring the roots, and ignoring the sacrifice of the tree, it is too easy to be distracted by the shiny lights and ignore the hidden, cyclical, transformative, rejuvenating qualities of deep winter.  It is too easy to burn out in the light of toxic positivity, social commitments, and forced overemphasis on life, instead of letting yourself also take some time to rest and reflect in preparation for the new year.

If you have a live Yule, Christmas, or other holiday tree in your home, please take some time to thank that tree for its sacrifice, and to be grateful for what it has brought to your celebrations.  Remember the importance of its roots that were left behind, and recognize the value of its life, so that by extension you can acknowledge your own roots and the profound value of all life, including your own.

Although O Tannenbaum: My Witchy Winter Solstice Tree as Fir Magick by Heron Michelle does not specifically address the issue of the cut off roots, it does give some excellent guidance for how to respectfully and spiritually choose and include your live tree as part of your celebrations.

Other Benefits of Artificial Yule Trees

If your tree is not living, it can be any color at all, and I do so very much love that!  I do love my shiny lights and bright colors.  Along with holiday candles, those things help to provide contrast to the darkness of the season.  It is easier to appreciate darkness when there is light, and vice versa, because either alone is blinding.  It is a blend of both that allows us to see and understand the world around us.

At this point my partner and I have three artificial Yule trees.  One is that black and red tree we purchased more than a decade ago.  The second is six feet tall and metallic pink, which we purchased barely in time for Yule a couple years ago.  It was the display model, sans box and priced to clear.  The third is another four-foot tree, in painfully vibrant blue, with multi-colored lights (the one pictured at the top of this article).  One of my friends, Siren Spectacular, has a rainbow-colored tree that celebrates their queerness and witchiness in one glorious package.  Each color is in a band that spirals down the tree creating the impression of a 7-hued unicorn horn, topped with a black witch hat, and I absolutely love it.

Since artificial trees are lightweight, you can also put them just about anywhere, including hung from the ceiling.  I have seen photos of an artificial tree segmented and stuck to walls like either half was emerging through a portal (like the video game).  I have seen multiple photos of trees attached to the ceiling in various ways, including upside down, often just to keep it out of reach of the family cats.  I saw one photo where the tree was suspended from the ceiling like it was floating, with a dramatically lit pentagram placed on the floor below.

There really are so many more creative decorating options when you do not have to worry about the weight or watering of your tree.  Plus, if you want to put your artificial tree against a wall or in a corner (like I did this year), you can bend the branches so the tree is flat against the wall, and the visible part is extra full with branches.

Other Alternatives Besides an Artificial Yule Tree

There are beautiful and nostalgic glass and ceramic trees available for sale.  However, they are usually significantly smaller than a small artificial tree (typically only 6”-16” tall).  If you intend to use it as your centerpiece, presents end up clustered around, rather than being nestled underneath.

I have seen large and elaborate metal or wood candelabras shaped like pine trees.  Exact availability is likely to be limited and sporadic, but if this is something that interest you, it can be worth hunting down or keeping an eye out for.

In some areas it is possible to buy a rosemary bush which has been trimmed into the shape of a Yule tree.  If you are up for the responsibility of caring for a rosemary bush, this can be a win-win for a living plant as your centerpiece, and providing you with an edible herb year round.  It is once again going to be on the small side, though, even though they can cost as much as a live pine tree.

Paper and laser cut Yule trees are an option for any budget or home size, especially if you make them yourself.  Pre-made and pre-lit wood, cardboard, or paper trees are available for sale, often from independent artists and craftspeople.  Some are substantially large, and there is a staggering variety of art styles available to suit any taste.  Depending upon how these trees are constructed, some are very durable and will last for years, while others are created such that they can be recycled or composted at the end of the season.  Depending upon the size, construction, and whether it was made by an artist or mass produced, they range in price for very affordable to very expensive.

If your budget is limited, but you are crafty, it is possible to make your own paper or cardboard tree.  You can paint it and decorate it, to have a unique centerpiece to fit your budget.  If you are not sure how to make one, there are no shortage of free and paid tutorials online to demystify the process.  It is also an excellent kind of holiday project to keep children busy for an afternoon, and to give them an opportunity to participate in the festivities.

If you want to get creative and have the skill and supplies, you can make your own tree out of lots of different things, like gingerbread, glass, acrylic, ceramic clay, crafting clay, and more.

I am still fond of the idea of buying a potted pine tree for the Yule season, and then planting it in spring.  Symbolically, this is what makes the most sense to me, but it requires that you have the budget to buy a decent sized live potted tree, and that you own your own home with a large enough property that you have somewhere to plant it.  Since I rent and I am on fixed income, this is anything but an option for me.  Also, digging that kind of hole is no longer physically an option for me, so I would also need to be able to pay someone else to do that.

Somewhere along the way I was authoritatively informed that way back when in pagan Northern European history, it was traditional to go out into the woods on Yule and decorate a living tree where it was growing, complete with lit candles placed carefully on the branches.  Now, in all honesty I have absolutely no idea if there is any historic truth to that at all, but I always liked it as a concept.  That is why, when I drive around looking at holiday lights closer to Christmas, I particularly enjoy seeing trees growing in yards that have been cheerily adorned.  Such trees are obviously not a place to nestle your seasonal gifts, but if you have a yard with a pine tree in it, you can celebrate the season by decorating that outdoor tree.  That way you have a live Yule tree without killing one or planting an ever-expanding grove.

Happy and Blessed Yule to You

Each of us has different priorities, desires, needs, and ethics.  There is no one best answer for what kind of centerpiece to use for your Yule celebrations.  For me, at this time, that answer lies in artificial Yule trees, but they are not for every person or every situation.

The important part is to engage with the winter solstice sabbat in a way that harmonizes with your traditions, your practices, and your life, so that you can focus more on the layered meanings of the holiday than impressing other people or performing to external expectations.  Performative holidays are exhausting!  Authentically observed holidays are usually meaningful on multiple levels, and can provide respite so many of us so desperately need.

No matter how you choose to celebrate Yule, be that with an artificial tree, a paper tree, a rosemary bush, a live cut tree, or no tree at all, I wish you a Happy, Healthy, and Blessed Yule.