The blackberries that ripened in the summer sun meet their end in a pot stirred by a grinning skull. They will lose their individuality, be crushed to something unrecognizable—and be preserved to be re-born in deeper sweetness some winter day. If they had stayed on the vine they would have simply withered away. Sometimes the radical change we fear opens us to undreamed possibilities.
Where do you see radical change in your life or the world around you?
The winter solstice marks the longest night of the year, the moment in time when the light is at its lowest ebb. Which means that it also marks the moment when, imperceptibly, the earth tilts toward spring, and the light begins to grow.
Where do you find signs of growing light in your life?
“The Holly and the Ivy” is a traditional English Christmas carol, but the symbolism of those two plants goes back even further, as they are Pagan fertility symbols. In the midst of the winter we celebrate with evergreens, finding promise of continuing life in those plants that remain green when so many others are dormant.
What in your life feels dormant, gone into hiding? What feels like it will always be green?
Who hasn’t admired the beauty of the first green leaves of spring, the shimmering of summer leaves in the light, the gorgeous reds and golds of leaves in the fall? But what of leaves in winter, no longer bright, but displaying the delicate pattern of their veins, showing a subtler beauty to those who will take the time to look down?
Where will you find subtle or hidden beauty today?
The day after US Thanksgiving is celebrated as a day of shopping: “Black Friday,” when the merchants hope to end the year in the black. But what if we celebrated Black Friday as a day of honoring the growing darkness of the season? Black Friday could celebrate the mystery of the dark, the beauty of the night sky, the richness of the dark earth, the restfulness of the dark evening time.
What experiences or images of the dark call most deeply to you?
