I discovered this morning that winter solstice, which is traditionally on December 21 is on the 22nd this year, for most of the world. We are entering the final hours of darkness, although according to dateandtime.com here is Albuquerque, the Winter Solstice is still today at 9:49 PM. Today, the sun rises here at 7:11 today and sets at 4:59, which is 44 minutes more of sunlight than I would have had back in Massachusetts. For some reason it feels good to know that the return of the light is on its way. For me, it is also the return of freedom, as this job ends at the end of the month. Hallelujah.
There is something particularly liberating about knowing the end is almost here. I take the thought of it and treasure it in my heart. It heightens my appreciation; helps me to remember not to take such things for granted; reminds me to savor the things I love. While I have so appreciated the extra income, particularly at Christmas-time, loved feeling as if I had extra I could afford to spend on gifts for this one or that one (especially grateful to be able to help so generously with the giving tree at church!), it is not a trade-off I would want to make long-term.
I value my leisurely lifestyle too much to trade it for a few hundred dollars a week. I honestly don’t know how people do it, not for so little money; not without being passionately in love with the work. I have been happy to help but thank you God for not asking me to do it indefinitely.
The return of the light means the return of growth, of expansion, of becoming more myself. Yet as I examine this time period, I recognize it is the tension that generates the inspiration to move past this restriction. It is the moving past the adversity, the challenge of being chained, that produces the impetus for moving into greater productivity in the future. It is a lesson and if I am to avoid repeating it, I need to learn it.
So on this the shortest day of the year, the longest period of darkness, I pause to give thanks for the return of the light. I pause to drink in the promise of newness that awaits. I treasure it up in my heart that I might remember this: it is the birth of Christ consciousness. It is the birth of a new way of being in the world. We hibernate; go into the darkness that we might emerge rested and ready to face a new day. The light is returning. Give praise for the return of the light.
Namaste, my friends, Namaste.