[I am re-posting what I wrote last Friday, adding one clarification at the end (see *** near date at bottom of post).]
Oh, the dark is pervasive… Up here in the north, we begin to turn on lights by 4 PM this time of year; we need them well into the midmorning as well. The rain does not help the “light issue” much at all. In the last twenty four hours I plugged in a second nightlight, bought another long-burning candle, and paid my exorbitant electric bill for the month. I find the darkness adds to my fatigued feeling, an unshakable desire for longer nights of sleep and extra cups of half-caffeinated coffee. Much of the time I feel chilly and want to don extra layers. Also, I am not a fancier of the “holiday season” and feel grumpy with the hustle and bustle of consumerism, plans and agendas, obligations. It has been years since I celebrated Christmas in any way that felt genuine or holy. I have no traditions or rituals around New Year’s, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah or Boxing Day.
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| Moonset - 12 Dec 8:03 AM |
And yet, I am smitten with the winter solstice! (Maybe it is because my rebellious nature draws me to the underdog; I rally for the holy day which gets the least attention.) I turn deeply inward to reflect on the year just coming to a close. It is with excitement I turn to face the upcoming one. While I understand with my intellect that the longest night of the year also means the turning point toward the return of the light, my heart summons me to my own core of darkness. I am not one of those many people who suffer from seasonal affective disorder or winter depression, and I am grateful. But it seems important to take time to reflect, to ponder, to partner with the night (at least on this one sacred evening of seeming-perpetual darkness) in order to become a bringer of the light. If I just sit alone, or in quietude with others, I know I can find the gems that shine within my belly (something my yoga instructor says with flourish and eloquence) and bring them forth into the world. Each of us can do this!
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| Sunrise - 13 Dec 7:15 AM |
To just sit knitting, warping and weaving on my loom, becoming mesmerized by the flames on the burning candles around me, making collage, meditating or writing, walking on the darkened beach at low tide…ah!; these, for me, are the bliss and gifts of wintertime! No matter how chilled I get in the wind, rain and near-freezing temperatures on hikes and walks, nature restores me on the inside, and I know I can cozy up, hibernate a while in my home, find the warm center that is at the core of wintertime darkness. The longest night of the year offers me a chance to pause, to find calm in the center of the busy-ness around me, to honor the darkness, even as I celebrate the (eventual) coming of the light. As I get to know and inhabit the darkness, I also come to know and cherish the light; we need both to be whole. I relish the longest night of the year!
Winter Solstice 2011 is on 22 December***…May you find and inhabit your peaceful inner place, shine your light in the outer places, and remember that we all need one another’s gifts of spirit!
***This afternoon I had a skype conversation with my favorite biologist (who is in the southern hemisphere about to celebrate their summer solstice). We had an extended discussion about the exact timing of the solstice, during which I realized I missed a crucial detail when I "confirmed" the Winter Solstice 2011 date. The winter solstice date and time notes that the northern hemisphere will be at its farthest point from the sun at 5:30 A.M. GMT/UTC on 22 December. This translates into 9:30 PM Pacific Standard Time on 21 December. (I live in the PST zone.) This reminds me how very enormous our planet earth is; how many different time zones we have constructed; and that the boxes on a calendar are but symbols of time, rather than time itself. Most of all, my oversight reminds me to be humble. I remember that the Divine is in: the axis and tilt of the earth; the longest darkness (whichever night it might fall on); the perpetual movement of planets, moons, suns. So, perhaps I will hunker down for two nights - the 21st and the 22nd - allowing the darkness to continue its work in and through me...as I pause for some long dark hours...before heading back on our planet's slow tilt toward the sun, imperceptibly...but...steadily...moving...into...the...fullness...of...my...life...and...
eventually.....the.....return.....of.....the.....light.
All blog photographs taken by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted.
