It’s A Day

There is always a day after. Today is the day after the Winter Solstice, and the day should be a few seconds or minutes longer than yesterday. I’m not entirely sure what to do with more daylight, since right now it’s cloudy and the time gain is mostly negligible. It’s the cycle of the year, yadda yadda.

There is not much to report from here, longer day or not, but I’ll be glad when this Western holiiday season is over. That includes New Year’s Eve, and the Super Bowl, all that making up the denouement of Christmas. I have not been out very much, not looking for parties or get-togethers or anything purely social. Depression? Possibly, but without a lot of family left, this is kind of how it is for me. I have great friends and somewhat of a support system, but when it comes to major holidays in our culture, people batten down the hatches with their genetic kindred. That’s for better or worse, and many dread the obligatory family gathering as much as I dread the commercialism and solitude, but at least it’s temporary. When I had more living family, namely my mother, I did the whole enclave thing like everyone does…but I didn’t prattle on about chosen family and telling everyone they were welcome at my place. But that’s another story.

I am in no way attached to any theological bonds of Christmas, but it’s a festival of light and color and up-tempo music (unless you are trapped in a place like Starbucks with music from the Peanuts Christmas Special on repeat). There’s no real sadness for me, but a great deal of boredom. I may go for a drive to the mountains on Christmas Day, but not sure. The older I get, the more I worry about having unexpected problems with my 20+ year old truck. It’s in very good shape, but I’m less physically able to contend with catastrophe than when that truck was new…and I was 20 years younger. That’s a first-world problem, though. I am warm and safe, I have food to eat, my dog is healthy, and I am mostly well. There’s quite a lot of gratitude for all of that, and I take that seriously.

If I was able to choose something I wanted at this moment, it would be to win the lottery. Either the state powerball or the national power ball drawing would be fine. I truly want only to be in a comfortable financial position, where I don’t have to worry about the unexpected utility rate increase or insurance premiums rising. There are things I very much want to do that do not involve my personal comfort, however, like a legacy for my cousins and my community. I would love to leave the un-church something significant, like maybe a satellite building or some brick-and-mortar structure for social justice. Or, as I’m writing that, a recurring conference or workshop for social justice or social activism. I’m very serious about that. Even a scholarship at a university for something in that sphere would be great. I am dreaming big on that, far beyond things like vacations and cars for myself. I just don’t want to have to worry and feel as though I’m on thin ice financially, and I’m sure I am not alone in that.

It occurs to me there’s so much to be done in the world that money cannot improve. It certainly helps, but as I watch the current events in this country, I am more and more convinced that money only allows select people to further their illusion of control. If I had billions of dollars at my disposal, I would be the first to say that nothing I fund would actually control people. It might change some of the circumstances for a small number of people, but ultimately it would not change people’s hearts or behaviors. We have free will, a blessing and a curse, and there is nothing any individual can do to override that.

So, earlier today I was thinking that one of my biggest disappointments is that I don’t feel particularly talented about much of anything. I have a few above average skills, but I usually refer to such things as evidence of spectacular mediocrity. I will never be a professional musician, I will probably never be a legendary writer. Some enjoy what I put forth musically or linguistically, but my ego always wanted me to be one of those best-of-the-best figures. That doesn’t seem to be my path, and it disappoints me a bit. I’m not entirely sold on the fame and fortune part of virtuosity, but am very attracted to being elf-assured about my skills. I second-guess myself at just about everything, question whether I’ve done my best, convince myself that whatever I’m producing is merely average and not unique, not creative. The self-criticism is tiring.

Recently, I’ve read writings from a couple of people referring to their gifts as medicine rather than talent, or skill. Indigenous people have referred to medicine similarly, and teach that all animals have “medicine”. I observe this is animals, and people. A dog’s medicine is unconditional love and immediate joy, an ant’s medicine is strength and/or patience, and the honey bee’s medicine is about community and purpose. I have a friend who is very unassuming and finds her place wherever she goes. She is an incredible example of accepting people at face value. She does not practice contempt prior to investigation or experience, and feels as though she embodies kindness and self-centeredness. Her medicine is full acceptance of people as they are, without judgment. She is not one to gossip or speculate on the motives or character of others, which is refreshing.

Some people have bad medicine, and I feel as though I’m a magnet for them. Socoiopaths, narcissists, generic assholes find their way to me without invitation. Or maybe I’m inviting them in some underhanded fashion, but my remedy for that is to isolate like a champ. I’m not interested in risking that attraction, so as Mr. Miyagi said to Daniel in “The Karate Kid”, “Best defense – no be there.” That’s my strategy. I can’t attract these folks if I’m not where they are. I am committed to staying in my apartment for the duration, because I can guarantee they are not here. That works.

Christmas is still a day of quiet energy, solstice energy of the light reborn. It’s about the light, the Star in the East guided the Wise Men to the manger, the Hanukkah lamp burned for 8 days on oil that should have lasted for only one. Christmas decorations light the way for St. Nicholas to find his way through the night. The longest night is a metaphor for the womb and the tomb, dark places that protect spirits in transformation before their emergence into the light. Seeds that are deep in the blackness of the soil are destined for new life in the sunlight after spending time of uninterrupted growth and development. The dark has a bad reputation, but it is necessary for the light. Even cosmic black holes originate in light that has been focused into a singularity. Light cannot exist without dark, and vice versa. Polarity is a requisite of existence, it seems.

Today, I have done absolutely nothing. I believe I took a nap in the early afternoon, and I ate a bag of kettle corn. I had an english muffin with blueberry cream cheese spread and nothing else. I should eat something with a bit of substance and possibly some protein. I had 3/4 of a protein shake with the english muffin, but now I’m hungry, which is not a bad thing. A body has to be nourished, although I’m still getting the hang of eating nutritiously. It irks me that I can’t eat like a 5-year old and be healthy. Life on life’s terms strikes again.