Thanksgiving Day has passed, a day which was full of gratitude for life's abundant blessings... and turkey with all the trimmings. My two grown kids and my dear husband and I (and the puppy*!) rode over the highway and through the woods to the grandmothers' house, and everyone was loving and cordial and friendly and fun, and we were home in time to relax before bedtime (and let the puppy run around*).
On the way home in the dark, we saw 3 houses with Christmas lights a-glow, and one lit tree standing in a window. 'Tis the season? The stores and the national economy want us to think so. But I find that once again I am approaching the month of December with my usual stubborn insistence on letting the beauty of the dark-into-light time unfold. The days are definitely getting darker and darker; we have candles at the dinner table most nights, and we're all looking at our watches after supper and wondering what is the earliest we can get into our beds! I'm not ready for Christmas muzak, decorations, lights and greenery to infiltrate my quiet, brooding Advent.
On this first Sunday in Advent, I have gotten out the Advent candle holder, but have not yet gathered the moss or installed the candles (photo to follow when mission accomplished). As my spirituality has evolved, my love for Advent has only increased, as it so beautifully expresses the hopeful anticipation of light following the darkest time. As we light the candles one by one, they remind me by their strengthening light that no matter how dark it gets, light will return. This is also reflected in a very November-y song by Gordon Bok that I often think of at this time of year:
Oh, my Joanie, don't you know that the stars are swinging slow,
And the seas are rolling easy as they did so long ago.
If I had a thing to give you, I would tell you one more time
That the world is always turning toward the morning.
So, let the candles slowly increase, and let the greens gradually appear. The carols on the player will ease in as well, and the tree won't arrive until the Solstice. There will be concerts, and parties, and places where "Christmas out there" will be unavoidable, and I'll participate whole-heartedly with gratitude for the joy in the faces around me. But at home, let it be Advent for the next 4 weeks!
*although this is not a blog post about the puppy, I promised to write about the puppy this time, so here you are!
"Gordon Bok, he wrote a song about the winter long
ReplyDeleteAnd I'm waiting for the morning and the dawning of the song
But you know he's a musician and he probably sleeps till noon
And I bet he just turns over in the morning."
Embrace the cycles with a smile!