'Tis the Season

.... for hibernating. We're down to 9 hours between sunrise and sunset. Without electricity my day would start at dawn, around 6:30a. By 4p I'd be fairly well convinced by the waning light that it was dinner time. And by 8p, four hours after dinner, I'd be ready for sleep. Eleven hours of sleep.

In fact, that's pretty much what happened in November when we went to New Hampshire, to my parents' camp that doesn't have electricity. We woke as the skies began to brighten around 6a, we ate lunch early, we ate dinner before 5p, we were in bed nearly asleep by 8:30p. It's the rhythm that came naturally to our bodies, responding to natural influences. It felt good and right. Restorative.

But here I sit, a month deeper into darkness, at 9p, lights on, feeling a bit tired, knowing I'll be up for at least another hour. At this time of year I don't reduce the demands on my time, my body, my mind, as nature intends. No. I add demands. I plan the holiday celebrations, dream up presents for the people in my life, buy those presents, create a holiday card and send it, make special foods, and then I throw in the C2 Holiday Challenge. As if the holidays aren't enough of a challenge on their own.

I understand the desire to mark the Winter Solstice. That moment when the sunlight stops dwindling, when our planet's orbit starts tipping those of us in the northern hemisphere back towards that glorious sun. It is a moment of faith. Faith that the sun will return, that the days will lengthen, that life will spring forth from the earth again. We look to evergreens as emblems of that promise. We look to fires for warmth and light. We look to our friends and families, we gather them close, to sustain us. But we no longer listen to the messages of nature that urge us to slow down, to turn inward, to conserve.

Today I listened, if only briefly. I rested when I could have pushed on. Tomorrow I will try to listen. It's time draw in loved ones and rest in their presence. Perhaps I will find a bit of time for that... among all those other demands I place on myself in this season of hibernation.