"The longest night pulls us into the resting season. Quiet land teaches by example: that which rises must also sleep; that which sings is silent, too, or the rhythm of life is lost." Jessie Montgomery, from the We'Moon Date Book 2004
Tomorrow could be a really dark day or we might find the Mayans were right. The big thing about tomorrow for me is that the next day marks the beginning of days getting longer. Incrementally minute by minute there will be more daylight. It'll take a long time before we notice it much, but eventually, a few months from now, it will amount to something. Finally I'm getting it. This isn't so much a time for hibernation as it is for knowing that what feels like working in the dark, working without seeming to get anywhere will, day by day, become something entirely new I've never seen before. After years of railing against the dark, this year I hope to accept it for what it is: an important part of my artistic growth and lifecycle.
Baruch ata adonai...may I look at the dark in a new way: not as something to fear, not as something to put my head down and get through, not as bearing the fog of depression, but rather as an opportunity: a time of no expectations. Amen