in december

During Hurricane Sandy, a cluster of huge trees toppled in our yard. We have someone coming next week to cut them into pieces and move them off the stone wall. In the meantime, there is a huge and gaping hole where the root ball has been uprooted and exposed.

I can see the hole, with the tree roots dangling, from our kitchen window. Sometimes as I stand at the sink washing pots and pans, I can feel a strange and irresistible pull toward that hole. It reminds my mammal self of a cave. A dark and inviting cave. At this time of year, when daylight is so precious, I feel the tug of hibernation. Some ancient and primal part of myself wants to lumber up the hill, crawl into that hole, curl up, close my eyes, let out a long, long sigh, and go to sleep.

Instead, I am living in a busy world, where our "evolution" has robbed us of a long winter's sleep. So, I am searching for light...in the smile of the guy at the transfer station, in the sparkle of the holiday lights downtown, in the candlelight of the menorah, in the laughter around the dinner table, in the anticipation of the magical solstice and in the bright shining hope of these paper white narcissus.

I seek the light of the season. In that seeking, I move forward toward hope, and peace and love.