solstice paradox

The world outside my window is gray. No sunshine. Fitting since yesterday was the least light filled day of the year. Winter is here, in all its bitter cold glory. Reminding me it gets three entire months, just like each season.

I’ve considered the moon more this year than any other. Made it a point more often to look. Even if it means going out of my way. Tonight’s moon will be full and I hope to see it. Hope the clouds subside, enough. I do take comfort in knowing it’s there.

This is the time of year in which we think about the stars. And stargazers and people who long ago used the sky as a guide. A very specific star. Angels appearing in the night sky. We look up during this season, even if in a symbolic way. Look up and out into the darkness, in anticipation.

Which is so opposite of what we do in the sunshine. We’re warned not to look directly at the sun. The sun can harm us. Our eyes and our skin. Dehydrate us. Give us a headache. Yet I long for the sunshine. To be engulfed by warmth. I hope for it. And wait for it.

Which I suppose is what advent is. Waiting expectantly in a hopeful state. Here I am in the gray, hoping to see the light of the moon tonight. Hoping the sun will pop out this afternoon, enabling me to walk my neighborhood route in brightness. Knowing the moon and sun are always, always present in the sky. Out there in the distance. That never changes. The paradox though. Opposites. That’s what I’ve thought of so often during these recent weeks.

My Richard Rohr advent meditations have hit on this. How I am in the in-between. How so much is a process. I should focus less on the goal and more on the journey. Which is difficult because I like finality. I like leaving the last day of work for 2018, desk neat and everything filed appropriately. No loose ends. Yet. That’s nearly impossible and not all that important and I’ll be back in a little over a week anyway so what’s the big deal, right? The idea, I guess. I want to know the answers to the big questions. And Christmas brings so many of those questions to mind. Family issues and choices made. Yet all the while, keeping the advent season in mind, I’m told to wait in hope. Prepare myself. Yet trust. Which is so very hard. For all of us, I’m sure. I want to know what 2019 will bring. Yet none of us does. Know what. Yet I also want my share of mystery. I want to rest in the uncontrollable. To be still, silent, surrendered to the in-between. Floating, not swimming. Gazing upward in the night.

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