The Reason for the Season

Lately I've been thinking about what is basic: the very minimum we need to survive, or at least to keep on keeping on, and I'm not talking about coping beverages or chocolate or bad tv, or even bloglines and typepad, as much as I consider those things personal necessities. 

I'm talking basic: it applies to shepherding, and to most farming, where "stress" on an animal means that there is a deficit in their basic needs.  I'm slightly stunned, in retrospect, to realize that it's largely how the medical world thinks about infants: they're either hydrated or dehydrated, thriving or failing to do so.  There's no consideration of comfort, no care for emotional states, no namby-pamby how do you feel about that.  It's about whether you will survive, long-term, in that state.  And between that, and where I and probably everyone reading this lives, is an unfathomable gulf.

There's a lot of whining lately on the part of people who claim Christianity that we're forgetting the real meaning of the season.  And since there seems to be ample evidence that the date of this Christian festival was chosen to coincide with much older pagan festivals, including Yule, I'm going to have to agree with them.  Because waaaay back then in the day, before Jesus was the reason for the season, this here little festival was about staying alive.

I have central heating.  I have two winter coats (actually four, if you count the dress one from back when business attire was formal and the navy surplus pea coat that's a pinch too small in my current, um, physical configuration).  There's a car with a blasting heater and an office at the top of a 100-year-old building with steam heat.  I have electric lights, a stove, and a microwave.  Hot water at the twist of a knob.  A toilet conveniently located just next to the heating register.  Down comforter, over wool blanket, over soft cotton sheet.

I complain about the cold.  Also the dark.  It's hard.  I'm not saying it's not.

But how much of that stuff was available to my great-grandmother?  How much to hers?  How much to the witchy chick who must have gotten my family named after a tree back in Ireland back before names were passed down from fathers?  How about those Vikings?  The people who were like, hey, let's get on a boat (Alden Amos will remind you that every scrap of fiber on that boat was not just handspun, but spindle-spun, and yes, we're talking about SAILS here people).  Because maybe the weather in freakin' NEWFOUNDLAND might be better that what we got right here at home in Norway.  That, my friends, is cold.

I know we all know this, but there were no good old days.  Life may not necessarily be better, whatever that is, but it's a hell of a lot more comfortable.  We're handworkers and we keep alive the knowledge of those times, at least scraps of it.  But our handwork is leisure and theirs was survival, and I don't completely know how to reconcile those things, do you?

This darkness that we face, in our comfortable, climate-controlled lives, it's tough.  We feel pressured, we feel stressed, we feel like we're failing over and over to achieve some insane expectation of, I don't know, something about Christmas or Xmas or Holiday or whatever, and family and togetherness and gift-giving and certainly heightened expectations of ourselves and each other, in these lands and these times of plenty.  And I don't mean to take away from that, because it's real and if you couldn't guess, I feel it too.  But if we want to talk about the reason for the season, the reason for the trees and the wreaths and the Yule log and the candles in the windows, then we're talking about dark and cold, dark and cold that you couldn't escape, that was there every day with the sick and the frail and the newly-born and the mad.  We're talking about survival.  Getting through the winter.  They really meant that: getting through. 

So thinking about the reason for the season, first I'm thinking about just plain being cold.  There's a lot of cold and darkness out there, and doing what I can do, from my privileged place here, is part of the light I mean to carry through the darkness of today.  That means knitting for charity, but also donating money.  Items hand-made with compassion carry more than wool and stitches, but there is an undeniable irony to first-worlders helping the third world with handwork, at least to my mind.  I've spent a lot of my life feeling insecure--unsafe--economically, but getting back to basics, I've never been in danger.  So more generosity, more putting of my money where my mouth is, and my heart. 

So, every Yule, I light a candle.  That candle symbolically holds my intention for the light I want to bring back with the sun as it returns, the tiny flame I'm keeping alive through the dark night in that mythic tribal firepit in my imagination.  And this year's candle will be about basics.  It's a little more complicated than before, maybe just more muddled, but I want to hold the gratitude, or maybe even just the awareness, of my rare and profound comfort.  And I want to remember to take care of my own basics, as they're defined in this rarified world: remember to eat things that are not all fat and sugar--your body doesn't need those things because you're not shivering through darkened nights and shearing the sheep whose fleeces you spin.  Remember to exercise, a laughable idea to my grandmothers but a real issue for me.  The idea of driving my car to a place where people walk on treadmills sets my teeth on edge, but right now that might be the most realistic plan, and until I have a barn full of sheep to hoist and feed and chase and fence (not planning, I'm just saying, this isn't exactly my lifestyle), I'm not getting it any other way. 

And the care and feeding of the soul: that too.  Because those people who had to process their own food, who had to spin and weave their own cloth and sew it by hand, never mind the sails for the viking ships, those people took that time.  They lit the windows with precious tallow, they burned the largest, driest Yule log on the fire and they took the time to cut greenery to hang inside their cold and dark homes to remind them that all was not gray and white and frozen.  Those lives, full of pressures and stress we can't imagine, made space to hold the sacred, to observe the seasons, and to mark it for themselves and for the spirits that went before.  And if they could make that space, so can I.  We said grace tonight, at Henry's suggestion.  More, like that, as the sun returns, so mote it be.

That's my intention, such as it is; please use the comments to cast your own intention for the coming light.  I promise to hold that intention with you, to coax the flame ever brighter, as we make it through the winter, and past the dark.

For the good of all, and may it harm none, so mote it be.  And Merry Solstice to you.

Comments

[Maria]

Lovely, lovely post. I'm so glad I read it before going to bed tonight (in my comfortable, soft, warm bed). Thank you!

[Kate]

It is very selfish for a California girl to complain about cold, but I have a hard time with winter and lack of light and I really need to have tangible reminders that life is yin and yang. I understand why most cultures have a solstice tradition(My partner's book for kids: Lights of Winter wwww.lightportbooks.com came out of a need to explain this to our son). Every year I get my bulbs into the ground as a pre-solstice tradition. I will plant these because I believe light will come back into the world and these bulbs will grow into gorgeous flowers. In California at least, I can watch the green start to poke up and it helps me remember that life goes on and we will have light and warmth again. I wish everyone the ability to take a few breaths each day and feel gratitude and hope....(then get back to the holiday gift making...)

[M-H]

I'm really not sure that it's true that most cultures do have a solstice tradition. I've searched for a while and can't find much evidence that southern hemisphere aboriginal peoples did, even in the colder climates of Tasmanis, the South Island of NZ or South Africa. Tropical cultures, of course, didn't - it would be meaningless to them as their seasons are different from the Northern hemisphere seasons (as are seasons in much of Australia!). I really think that these traditions are almost entirely confined to the northern hemisphere - mostly to Europe.

Interesting discussion!

[wenders]

This is one of my favorite post readings ever, in all of blogland...

In thinking through your ideas, I realized that what I hope for this year is that I can focus on *MY* intentions. I've learned over this past year that often my actions and ideas of what one should do are driven externally, by what my parents, schools, company, friend think. Not to say at all that I am not accountable, but that I don't know if at the core, I really think that people have a responsibility to do X, or if Y is an obligation I feel I need to complete, or if it's someone else's. So while I hope that this year I can focus on myself, it is to bring a true authenticity to my life, which I know that I do believe is vital for survial in an age filled with increasing amounts of access to information, ideas, etc.

And, I've always thought that it would be a wonderful Christmas if my family decided to chuck the material gifts and donate to those who are concerned with true survival, not leisure survival. We could wrap the intangibles: sound advice, support in a time of need, converstation ... it would be a more of giving back what people had given me over the years.

[Carole]

So well put, Cate. And what you said about the "good old days" is completely true. It wasn't easy and people suffered. That's one of the reasons I find the reenacting that we do so interesting and intriguing. I spend a few weekends a year in a tent, with no indoor plumbing, no gas stove, no refrigeration, no modern conveniences to speak of. And it's fun but it's also hard - you have to be clever and think of ways to make the most basic things work. By, the way, we're doing an event at Mt. Holyoke in the spring. So, I guess the idea of remembering how lucky I am to live in this modern world and have the choice to live in the past now and again, is the key to my happiness this year. And when I light my candle today, I'll be thinking about you and all the things you've said.

[CarolineF]

How can I phrase my thought so it isn't too negative? My biggest hope for the next year is that the rational among us can hold back the impending darkness a little longer until it loses its strength and the tide turns. That science and reason and respect can push back religion and superstition and torture and environmental destruction until it fails. Sigh. What do you think?

[Leslie]

Thanks for a wonderful essay. It made me realize that as difficult as this year has been, the new year and the coming light hold promise and rebirth that I need to embrace and turn away from the darkness. I will light a candle tonight - or at least the wood stove!

[Stephanie]

Cate? I am completely in love with you. I thought it best to just come right out and say it.

I'll light a candle tonight and think about "less".

[Rachel H]

What a wonderful post. Thank you. I'm going to take some time to think about what my intention for the coming light will be, but I will also be lighting a candle tonight, and think about gratitude.

[PumpkinMama]

Fabulous post. Really lends some perspective. Thank you for this.

[Cara]

Every year for a while now I hang up holiday lights throughout my house. We're not very religious, and we are of different religions, but we completely and totally agree on the lights. The just make us FEEL better. I used to think that maybe it was because it brought a little holiday cheer and some color to our home and they do make all the crap on the floor look prettier, but this year I've realized that it's not holiday cheer at all. It's LIGHT. They bring LIGHT to our home - and I don't think I ever realized how important light is until now.

Thanks for a compelling post, Cate. I hope there is much light in all its forms (specifically enLIGHTenment) in your life in the coming year.

[Laurie]

I appreciate your literate thought, placing a necessary perspective just so. My intention is to resist being sidetracked by the trivial, the mundane, and illusory issues. I will work to focus on what seems to keep importance: the relationships in my work, in my homelife, and in my network. My intention is to keep a flow of kindness and cheer.

[Norma]

Beautiful. Just perfectly beautiful.

[Katy]

I heart you. You have put my thoughts into words, and given me still more to think about.
My intention is to continue to work to keep things in perspective, and not to get caught up in the inconsequential. It's a daily struggle for me.

[Jackie]

Thank you for your thoughtful post. Food for the mind and soul.

[mamamarta]

thanks cate dear, i really needed that this morning. julie and i are actually thinking very similar thoughts -- you've put it so well, getting back to basics. we're trying to think about living life a little more intentionally in the coming months, coming up with a set of principles that can guide our ethical decisions about how we spend our time, energy and money. i love how you're characterized it -- basics, not frugality. that's perfect. thanks so much.

[Lee Ann]

What Stephanie said. Because you've stopped me in my running-around tracks, and my "what will make everything perfect" treadmill needs to slow down to "keep the heart in its rightful place" speed.

I think about survival, too. A lot. The closer I get to the surgery I'm supposed to have, the more I wonder why I'm yelling at my child to hurry up instead of hugging her as tightly as I can. The kid who gives her tooth fairy money to the guy down the street with no gloves on "because I have it and he doesn't and he needs gloves."

A spindle-spun sail. That's what I'll be thinking about when I'm lighting my candle.

That, and how wonderful you are. Sail on, dude.

[Martha]

A beautiful post. We are all so priviledged and lucky in ways our foreparents were not. My intention for the coming year is to do something to improve the world in some small way--even if it is just to make a few people laugh. And I think it's time to start volunteering again--I took the past year off. Thank you for bringing meaning and thought to the season.

[--Deb]

Just . . . beautiful.

Thank you.

[Judy]

Thanks to the recent ice storm in the south, the kids and I just spent 2 1/2 days in a dark, mostly cold house, huddling around the fireplace. Two and a half days...sixty whole hours. No time at all compared to our foremothers, who spent all winter every year like that, AND had to spin, and cook, and give birth, all while making sure the fire didn't go out because they didn't have matches to start it again. I am in awe that they could do all that. Bring on the candles, chase away the dark!

[margene]

This is a good day to practice being grateful. The frenzy of the season does its best to destroy the light in our hearts. Beautifully said. May your Holiday Season be full of joy and light.

[Thorny]

Oh, so well said, Cate. Just... thank you. I've been struggling with similar thoughts, and couldn't put them into something cohesive. And then you came through and did it for me. Thank you.

My intention for the coming year is to not whine so much about what I can't or won't or don't have, and more importantly about the things I never had, no matter how much I wish I did. It is what it is, it was what it was, and wishing and whining won't change it.

Instead, I will try to focus my will-to-change on me, walking my talk, practicing what I preach - realizing that this life is all I've got, and I need to stop squandering it. Less time whining about the past and wishing for the future, and more time paying attention to what's going on right now, and appreciating what I've got, because really... it's more than I ever dared hope for.

[Lisa in Oregonl]

great post...gave me a little attitude adjustment.

[Emma.]

A wonderful post. Well written expression of sentiments I share. Light and warmth in the depths of darkness,to remind us that the world turns,life rolls on and the things to value the most are those we love.

[Kathie]

Thanks for your comforting words. I'm in a mental muddle this holiday season. As much as I KNOW this whole War on Christmas crap is a non-issue, it grieves me. And then it grieves me that it grieves me. And on. AND ON.

I even got sucked into an upsetting email exchange on the topic with a friend whose rigidity and narrowness may be turning her into a former friend. It was a mistake to get involved and I knew it, but...

New Year's Resolution: Use the delete key more often.

You offer a voice of comfort and joy. Here in frigid Wisconsin, we're lighting candles and enjoying the warmth of the fireside every evening. Hoarfrost coated every twig this morning and turned our yard into a fairyland. My entire family is home for the holiday and I could never express the extent of my gratefulness for having them all with me, safe and happy.