I cherish this dark time of year. I relate to its mystery, its brooding stillness, and its foreboding, because behind it all, you can sense a faint hint of possibility. The early-darkening skies, the drizzle and rain, the cold breezes and threatening weather—are all oddly tantalizing. Intellectually, you know the solstice is coming and then the ever-so-gradual return of light will begin like every year, but our primal feelings are extra-sensory, and unrelated to our knowledge of the seasons. Instead, our internal clock begs for a reset, secretly desires dark solitude and melancholic scenery.
We run from discomfort, run from uncertainty, avoid the dark and the unknown. But these are things we need, things we are supposed to brave and push through to achieve resolution, confirmation, light, and understanding. Given a choice between something easy or comfortable (with dubious potential to create growth) and something challenging that could transform our character, outlook, or living prospects, we choose the lazy path. And each time that we avoid the chance at re-alignment, at grounding, at entering the cave and letting the deep sleep take hold, we are poorer for it, are somehow conscious of having cheated ourselves out of a blessing or a new life perspective.
Let’s avoid the rush to Christmas this year— let us all turn away from that beckoning behemoth of jollity that we are told we must feel or forever be branded a Scrooge and instead pledge to truly live the dark tunnel of December. Just once, can’t we all linger in the dark together and let the long night take its toll and bestow its wisdom without being dismissed as merely a conduit to some manufactured corporate “Joy” we’re supposed to long for? Can we let the gauntlet of uncertainty bring about the dark night of the soul with anticipation of the good it will do for us all?
I am in. I am going to dive headlong into a winter advent that will be allowed to bring its own resolution, that will devise its own organic denouement as it unfolds, and see what the spiritual outcome will be. Yes, I’ll still be providing the usual and expected music experiences for those who are happy with the prescribed seasonal offerings and pre-determined spiritual arrival, but my journey will be with the old ways. I’m going to let the Druidic season unfold in me and drink in its wonders with no expectations or predispositions!
December, come and get me! Let’s walk into this winter forest and see where the elder path leads. . .
