Monday, 23 December 2013

Longest Day

One of the brilliant thing about having a child is the chance to do it all again.  Even better is the chance to do it a bit different.
I loved Christmas as a child, and still do.  I really appreciate how magical my family made it for me, the youngest child.  I bet they loved re-living it all again themselves too (my sisters and brother were all teens by the time I was 5).

One thing I'm doing different is to enjoy the quiet, natural, elemental part of the season.  The original reason for a celebration this time of year.  The Winter Solstice. The longest night.  And the slow turn back towards the sun.  A hope for a bright future.

 It offers a chance to slow down for a day, and think about the darkness and stillness of the season and the light that awaits us. 

We took the day, on the 21st, to be together without any to-do list or running around (like every other day). I had intended to invite B's Montessori friends around for a fire party, but the weather forecast was awful, and besides, I never got around to it. I wanted to do it alone this year anyway.

In the morning, we all wrote or drew our wishes and hopes for the coming year on pieces of paper, to burn that night in a bonfire.

I wished for peace, mostly in myself, joy and more of the things I loved.  I drew myself dancing and reading and writing!
Ian wished for freedom, and peace and joy.
B wished for the sun (of course - I forgot!), and peace too!! And love.
Look close and you'll see the sun
We kept the house mostly dark that day, lit mainly with candles. It did make us notice how far we seemed from the sun this season. Later, out in the garden in stormy weather, Ian lit a fire in the old sink we ripped from the kitchen (don't worry - not for the occasion).  It was magical.

We burned our wishes and I explained how their energy and light might be noticed by the sun, and pull us closer to it.

That day I wasn't as calm and still as I hoped.  But it helped to centre me a little, but on the next day.
After that night, we rose for the sunrise and drank hot chocolate before breakfast gazing out the window at the light.  I felt easier and softened, filed with hope for the new sun year.

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