Happy Solstice from the Bleak Midwinter

Yes, of course I remembered you today... and would you expect anything less?

There were years in my past on which this felt like a sacred day, and I was inspired to write beautiful things to you here. I posted gorgeous photos and ruminated on sacred Celtic sites like Newgrange. With this sacred monkey on my back, I felt obliged to at least check in and offer something this morning... and yet, I don't feel the least bit spiritual. I thought, "Let me go play some long tones on my flute, and that will clear my head and bring me to a transcendent place."

Then, as I prepared to make coffee (first, always first), I remembered that my 5th grade band has a concert in January and all we've really worked on all year is long tones and Frere Jacques, and a little bit of a pop tune that I'll surely get crucified for teaching. And rehearsal is at 7:45 this morning.

So. What did I do? I wrote harmonies for Ode to Joy, and printed out scores for clarinet and saxophone. And no long tones. Another check on the to-do list. Hooray for me. But no spirituality, not today, not yet. Just a little harmony, but only the auditory kind.

Somehow in the bustle of doing what we have to do for our lives, surely there is time to also do what we should do for our souls.  It's advent, too, after all. Fine.

I'm waiting.

That's probably what Solstice is. Light in darkness, our annual last call, the third chance to get it right before the year ends, since we screwed up our New Year's Resolutions and then got too distracted by chocolate bunnies to be reborn again at Easter.

It is seldom that we can change circumstances. But I've heard tell that it's possible to change how we feel about them. Perhaps Winter Solstice is the day we try to do that.

Shall we?