Today is the winter solstice which means it is the shortest day of the year. The longest, darkest night of the winter. Here we are. Sigh. As I write at my desk, overlooking the quiet street below, it is already dark. This happens I guess due to seasons and axis tilt and other things I don't really know about, but the point of it all is that we are in the dark of the dark! And there is only light from here. Hallelujah!
It's been a rough winter for the U.S as a country and as collective communities---between police violence against people of color, more and more gun violence and mass shootings and profiling and demonizing of Muslims and refugees, my heart has been darkened. This is to say nothing of the violence, pain and suffering happening in the greater world including Turkey, Syria, Iraq, Paris, Lebanon and more. Always more. It can be overwhelming.
And the loud, angry voices heard in the dark aren't helping---voices of intolerance, voices of hate, voices of fear. It's easy to be afraid in the dark.
Now certainly there is value in darkness: contemplation, silence, reflection and renewal can be found in periods of darkness. This dark day can be a special day, but it is the light we look to. The dawn after the night, after the storm. We always seek light. And yes, sometimes it takes courage to seek light from darkness. But tomorrow will begin to give us more light, little by little. It's a start. So now is the time for courage, for our voices to demand more light, in more ways than one.
May the increasing length of our days bring us increased generosity and tolerance towards our fellow humans. May the sustained light remind us of our responsibility to others and of the value of compromise and kindness. May this season of lights bring us deeper, action-driven empathy towards those suffering. May it keep our hearts open to each other, even just a moment longer.
May we remember it could be any of us in that dark in a heartbeat. Our roots are the same.
It's been a rough winter for the U.S as a country and as collective communities---between police violence against people of color, more and more gun violence and mass shootings and profiling and demonizing of Muslims and refugees, my heart has been darkened. This is to say nothing of the violence, pain and suffering happening in the greater world including Turkey, Syria, Iraq, Paris, Lebanon and more. Always more. It can be overwhelming.
And the loud, angry voices heard in the dark aren't helping---voices of intolerance, voices of hate, voices of fear. It's easy to be afraid in the dark.
Now certainly there is value in darkness: contemplation, silence, reflection and renewal can be found in periods of darkness. This dark day can be a special day, but it is the light we look to. The dawn after the night, after the storm. We always seek light. And yes, sometimes it takes courage to seek light from darkness. But tomorrow will begin to give us more light, little by little. It's a start. So now is the time for courage, for our voices to demand more light, in more ways than one.
May the increasing length of our days bring us increased generosity and tolerance towards our fellow humans. May the sustained light remind us of our responsibility to others and of the value of compromise and kindness. May this season of lights bring us deeper, action-driven empathy towards those suffering. May it keep our hearts open to each other, even just a moment longer.
May we remember it could be any of us in that dark in a heartbeat. Our roots are the same.
So true...it could be any of us in that dark...It makes me a little sad to say "Look out for others because one day you may need them to look out for you." But really, whatever works. Just, look out for others as you look towards the light.
ReplyDeleteAs always, you inspire me and I am glad to know you. Happy holidays to you, dear friend. xo
thanks friend. Happy holidays.
DeleteSometimes if we refuse to get stuck in the dark, the light reveals itself. We do what we can to bring the light but often it can be like nature, occurring when it occurs. Here is to wounds healing and health emerging. As a metaphor: the other day (70 degrees in Texas during Winter) I biked and swerved atop our local anti-pride, my neighboring attraction: The Pothole Of The Year 2015. http://centraltrack.com/Culture/8289/Pothole-of-the-Year/This-Mess-In-The-Middle-Of-The-Street-In-Front-Of-Lizard-Lounge-Deserves-A-Medal
ReplyDeleteAfter that I biked to a market in a park. The electricity was down and everybody was cuddled up with blankets. I spoke to a woman who creates new clothing out of old material, revising the material into new designs. She is from Romania, moved to Texas 16 years ago. We spoke of the first snowfall in Romania, and I compared it to mornings in Minnesota and New York. The softness, the lightness of a first fall of snow. The feeling of wanting to be outside to experience it. There is light.
Indeed Andy. Thanks for commenting.
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