Sunday Sunshine: Winter Solstice

Winter arrives tomorrow. It's time for the Winter Solstice.

Snowy, blowy, white and crisp. 

There’s a hush to the landscape now, but there’s great energy underneath the surface, moving us forward with incremental increases in daylight into the new year and then into spring. 

As the daylight begins to slowly return, consider how will you use your own bright energy this season and beyond.

Today, tomorrow, this week, this season: Think about how you will welcome winter and the possibilities that the new season brings.

Sunday Sunshine: Winter Solstice

The Winter Solstice is upon us, the beginning of the winter season. 

The darkness, the snow and the hush to the landscape are oddly juxtaposed with the busyness of the holidays, the merriment of the parties and the songs of the season being sung everywhere. 

In the midst of the activities and obligations -- the cookie baking, the parties, the school programs, the concerts, the gift buying, the preparations for the holidays, make time to quiet yourself, to internally reflect the outer world right now: hushed, dark, inviting peace.

Today, this week: Give yourself the gift of quiet in the midst of the busy season.

Seasonal Sprinkles: Winter Solstice

Today is the first official day of winter. Tonight also marks the longest night of the year. Tomorrow, increased daylight will begin to return incrementally.

On this first day of winter, this winter solstice, what would you like to see happen in your life? What are your dreams? Where are you seeking answers? Are you craving a new experience or adventure? Are you looking for hope?

The first day of a new season opens up possibilities for new things to come into your life. Have faith. Have hope. Have energy. Look to the starry night with optimism. Daylight is coming.

A Beacon in Darkness

Tonight is the longest night of the year, the Winter Solstice.  Until the days tick by and more daylight comes our way, I reflect on what the Winter Solstice means to me.  I take the darkness personally tonight. Several months ago, children at church sang "This Little Light of Mine.”  Their sweet voices and cheery faces encouraged all present to let our lights shine.  Through the unfiltered enthusiasm of those tiny ones, I was reminded of the big message that we are each given gifts and talents that are uniquely our own.  It is a blessing -- and indeed a privilege -- to contribute those talents and gifts to the greater good, regardless of how small or insignificant we may believe them to be.  In real and felt darkness, how might we add more light to the lives of others? What talents might we have that could make a difference for someone else?  How might we be lights in the world?  Perhaps it’s checking on a neighbor, calling a friend who is alone, offering words of support to a family member, writing a note to someone or volunteering for an organization or cause.  Such gifts don’t have to cost money.  Sharing your gifts and talents has a value all of its own. Even when all is dark (and perhaps especially so), it's important to let our own lights shine.  The light that we may think is but a tiny flicker may be the illumination that will serve as a beacon for another.  

Night Lights

Today is the Winter Solstice, the first day of winter, the longest night, the beginning of the slow return of daylight.  To celebrate the occasion, Larry and I spent time this evening at the home of our good friend Ellen where we were warmed by hot cocoa, good conversation and the beauty of Ellen's Christmas tree.  Then, we ventured out to take in Christmas lights.  Mother Nature had delivered just a little snow last night to make the sights pure and pristine -- scenes right out of a Christmas card.  We drove into the country, throughout the town and into the downtown business district, oohing and aahing at the many beautiful and colorful light displays on houses and in yards.  In all of the darkness, I find nothing more friendly and inviting than a lovely Christmas light display.  And what better way to celebrate the Winter Solstice, the return of light than to bring our own lights into the world, literally and figuratively?  Welcome, Winter!

Season of Light

Today is the first day of December.  A local newspaper columnist, Betty Lee, wrote this week that December is considered the cloudiest month of the year and that, in our corner of the world, the sun will only shine 25% of the time this month.  That's a mere seven to eight days out of 31!  I felt quite victorious when I saw the brilliant sunshine this morning, thinking that today was one of those precious seven to eight days.  The next time I looked outside, however, the sky had become overcast, then leaden, then filled with a wintery mix that fortunately quit as soon as it started. December is the month when we experience the longest night, followed by the journey to regain daylight, minute by minute.  December often encompasses what we call the season of light.  During all of the figurative and literal darkness of this world, I saw evidence of people bringing light to others today. This morning, I was invited to take part in two cash donation collections to bring a little light to someone else.  No matter what darkness abounds, there is also much light.  If we can't see it, perhaps we are being called to be the ones to initiate it.

Darkness Cometh

It's that time of year again when Daylight Savings Time ends.  For a brief period after we turn the clocks back, I'll awaken to daylight and leave work in darkness, but soon I'll wake up to the dark, as well.  The days will grow shorter and shorter until we reach the Winter Solstice in mid-December.  As Mom's favorite author, Gladys Taber, wrote in Stillmeadow Calendar (J.B. Lippincott Company, 1967), "I really prefer the long summer days, for I love light with a passion."  Like Mrs. Taber, I, too, want my days brimming with sunlight.  My favorite days are the sparkling ones in May and June when there's more daylight than I know what to do with.  I awaken early at that time of year to a morning that feels as if it's already begun without me and I linger outside as long as I can to soak up that last glow before the sun sets. For now, however, I must flow with the rhythm of the seasons, be one with the positions of the planet and sun, and get used to the darkness once again.  I'll be dancing on the Winter Solstice, however!