Long ago, in the pagan cultures of the far north, work and travel were severely limited by cold and snow as days grew shorter. Farmers and their families would remove a wheel from their carts as a sign of surrender to the great winter deities. They decorated the wheel with evergreen boughs, holly and candles. They prayed to the gods, bargaining really, pointing out that they were sacrificing their mobility as an offering to the Powers that Be, and in exchange all they asked is for the Light to return. And hey, guess what: it always worked. The Earth would turn, Solstice would dawn, and slowly the days would grow longer.
The irony is that here we are in our modern absurdity, rushing around in gloves and scarves and heavy overcoats, plowing through shopping malls and restaurants, partying like crazy, traveling by plane, train and automobile in dicey weather, willing to brave risks of raging downpours and blizzards, ostensibly to celebrate the birth of the Light of the World. The original pre-Christian reason for marking the season has been forgotten: to rest, to surrender, to take time for soft voices, for quiet, for prayer and meditation. Doesn’t the sky itself, the chill factor, the gathering clouds, offer us a clue?
A few years back, I read a book in which the author joked that it might be most meaningful if we removed a tire (just one) from our Toyotas and Hondas, our SUV’s and minivans, and decorate that as our advent wreath. Wouldn’t that bring the message home?
Enjoy the holidays. Have fun. But scale back a little if you can. Don’t let the season make you crazy. Remember, the smartest thing to do on the longest night of the year is sleep!
Photo by Oziel Gomez on Unsplash