Good
Morning,
The
Winter Solstice has finally arrived. It is 5 a.m. and incredibly dark outside.
When I stepped outdoors and looked up at the sky, there wasn’t a star in sight.
Cloud cover obscured the little sliver of moon. An occasional flake of snow
fell and instantly melted on my skin. Looking back at the house, the Christmas
tree lights were ablaze in the bay window. Candles were lit in all the other windows, and the ornamental tree by the front door was covered with small white
lights. It was the only light to be found in this inky darkness. At this hour,
it seemed to be the only light in the world.
The
days are especially short in this area of New England. Yesterday afternoon it
was nearly dark by 4:15. We had taken a drive to the coast to watch the
gunmetal gray waters of the ocean churn and roll. The sky was overcast. The
busy beach houses of summer where vacant. The mood was somber. There was a
large ship anchored firmly off the coast. I wondered what it is like for the
people living on that ship who endure the cold and darkness for such great
lengths of time. Perhaps, the sea gives them comfort.
We
all seek an anchor of some sort at this dark time of year. Some turn to their
faith. Many spiritual traditions celebrate important holidays at this time.
Some turn to family. Others plunge into their work, vices, or douse themselves
in material goods. Moods plummet, irritability is evident on the roads, and
people talk about how they feel overwhelmed, tired, or stressed.
Finding
an anchor is key. After our ocean drive we found a small restaurant overlooking
a coastal inlet. There was just enough light left to see that the tide was low.
It was beautiful. We ate lobster pie and talked about the changes we have seen
in our world. We felt extremely fortunate to be there enjoying the warmth, the
view, and the nourishing food. We had found our anchor.
Tonight,
there is a celebration of the solstice hosted by friends who live beside a
brook on an old mill site. There will be a potluck supper and a great roaring
fire in the fireplace. There will be a time to offer a poem, reading, or song
to the group. Later, we will go outside
and a big bonfire will be lit. This annual event serves as another kind of anchor
that will help tether us to the earth.
Tomorrow the light will slowly begin to return. We are ready and waiting
Tomorrow the light will slowly begin to return. We are ready and waiting
