“May the light illuminate your hearts and shine in your life every day of the year. May everlasting peace be yours and upon our Earth.”
― Eileen Anglin
The holidays are upon us. This year, for the first year in a long time, I will be working through the holidays with the exception of the officially mandated days off. I may, however, depending on how many people go into the office that last week of the year, just work from home that week. That remains to be seen...
For various reasons, when possible, it is my principle to take that time off. Not only because of all the happenings in the last week, but also because it's a good time to take some space, to make some space, and look back, look forward and re-orient myself in space. To close out what needs closing, to start the process of opening and refreshing what needs opened and refreshed. The last few years I've done a long list of questions about what I've done and what has changed from this time last year and it's always interesting to do these years in review. It's just the beginning of the month, and the end of the year feels so close and so far - as it always does.
I love this time of year - I think it's that despite the darkness, everyone puts up tiny little beacons of hope in all this seasonal grim. The trees along the streets get lit, houses get fancy lights (some houses get fancy lights like WHOA!). Every where I turn, there's these little glimmerings of hope that the light will return, but in the meantime we have these tiny lights and they sparkle and bring a bit of joy.
This is also the season of the crackling earthy wood on the fire. We don't indulge in this joy very often, not having wood easily available and being loath to pay grocery store prices for two bundles that barely last us an evening, so when we do, it's a special occasion. Granted, we also don't because our downstairs fireplace, where we would probably have most of them, doesn't draft properly (lol, or AT ALL), so it's never been used. Except that one time when we found out that it doesn't draft properly... *cough*
And my candles - these I burn almost year round, though not necessarily *every* night. Just most nights. But there's something particularly calming and soothing about a candle, whether it's dancing and flickering or just chillin' doing it's thing.
And so in this season of tiny lights in the darkness, rest, reflect, and ready yourselves - the new year and the new world await, and they will be exactly what we make of them.
With love, and curiosity, and tiny little beacons of hope,
--Susan