And so we turn to the light. We reach for twinkling, shimmering things to surround us, hoping that by some osmosis they will warm this biting chill that—like the first hard frost—has left the living, hopeful things to languish and pale.
If you live locally, go pick up the December copy of The Village and enjoy this article in its natural state, along with the words of so many other wise neighbors. For everyone else—I hope you’ll enjoy it here!
Here are some words on growing light, unity, and restoration within our communities this holiday season.
By the time you read this article, it’s entirely possible that you’ve had your Christmas tree up for over a month now. And while I’m a firm believer that pumpkin pie and mashed potatoes deserve their own moment at Thanksgiving, this year, I’ve joined the early adopters. I’ve been listening to a nearly constant stream of instrumental Christmas songs whilst puttering around the house, and I’ve been sipping coffee from Santa’s ceramic face for weeks now.
In truth, I think it’s less about hastening the holiday and more about a desire—even a desperation—to pull the light indoors. November felt historically dark. The daylight shifted and shortened, and the divisive knife of partisanship sliced right through our sense of communal well being. Memories of more carefree months have disappeared altogether, just a vapor diluted and absorbed into the cold black sky.
And so we turn to the light. We reach for twinkling, shimmering things to surround us, hoping that by some osmosis they will warm this biting chill that—like the first hard frost—has left the living, hopeful things to languish and pale.
If you’re anything like me though, you’ve discovered that it’s not enough. That no matter how many tapered candles you light, or no matter how many strands of bulbs you string about your home, you still feel like a spectator: you’re gazing upon the light, but what you really need is to swallow it in one giant gulp and to let it expand and make your belly light, to make your chest free of those knots that simply won’t unclench. In this time of ‘peace on earth,’ you wonder how to harness that ephemeral essence, thinking that if you can just bring it inside of you, it will soften every jagged-edged tangent that’s bobbed through the waters of your mind this year.
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