,

Soulstice

,

It has been extraordinarily easy to forget that winter is nigh. Here in Michigan we’ve had a long string of unexpectedly mild autumn weeks. Two days ago - on the last day of November, - I walked the dogs wearing nothing heavier than a sweatshirt. I even left my gloves in the pocket of my jacket, something I rarely do after October because my hands are always extremely cold. 

A stern reminder of the impending season becomes abruptly evident about 4:00 every afternoon. Darkness falls, and it falls fast. At our house we are in utter blackness by 5:15. Headlights stream down the road as people wend their way home from work, many of them having left the house in the (dark!) hours of early morning. December brings increasingly shorter days as we race toward the winter solstice on December 21, the penultimate day when the hours of darkness exceed the hours of light. 

Simple Gifts

“Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday,” my friend M. wrote last night during an exchange of texts to wish each other a happy day. “I love what it represents."

And although I’m not one who generally loves holidays, if pressed to choose a “favorite” I might well pick Thanksgiving myself. Because how can you help but love what it represents? An opportunity to be grateful, to take a day and enjoy the simple pleasures of life  - eating, drinking, relaxing, sharing with family or friends - and focus on the good things in life.

Because I’m Worth It

Yesterday I remarked to a friend that it had been months, literally, since I "went shopping."

“My mom and I used to go shopping all the time,” I said, recalling fond memories of shopping trips and lunches out. “She loved to wander through the malls and stores, especially when the seasons changed. She rarely bought anything, and if she did, she usually returned it! But she enjoyed looking at all the ‘pretty things’” as she called them."

But shopping lost it’s luster for me a long time ago.

Far and Away

The world feels precarious and upended, doesn’t it? After the tumult of the election and the reactions from both sides of the fence, I feel as if we’re all dice that have been put into a cup, shaken furiously, and spilled out willy-nilly onto the craps table.

The past year has been, far and away, the most tumultuous year I have ever experienced. The events of last week have done little to alleviate the fragile state my emotions were already in.  Today I wonder if my anxiety and upset about this election have perhaps been disproportionate, a reaction based on the culmination of a year’s worth of angst and unhappiness. I read something online the other day about grief being “love with no place to go.” I wonder if I have channeled a lot of grief into anger and anxiety about the state of political affairs. 

I spend a lot of time wondering these days.