Now is the time of quiet. After the melee of merriment and the panic of presents now is the time to settle in. Now comes the time to slow down again. If there are parties still to be had, let us attend them at a leisurely pace, with a glow of kinship and a slow blink that sees it all. If we find ourselves of an evening alone, let us melt into it without fear and be content with our quiet bustle.
Solstice has come and gone leaving the longest night behind us and the celestial new year ahead. But there are still many dark nights to be had. Do not wish them away because they are this side of the holiday. Enjoy them. For they are as much a part of the holiday as the holiday itself. They are the time we need to
re-accustom our rhythm. It is only in the darkness that we see the holiday lights dotting the the path ahead. Notice them. Not just those in front of you, a spectacle of scenery, for that time has passed. But look now to those further out as you travel, springing up along the way ahead. Now is not the time to whip our faces from window to window to catch the best display. You will not have missed the fanciest show; you will not have lost out.
We will be tempted, again as always, to rebuild, to retrench, reshape, renew--as though these things happen in an instant. There will be more sales and chatter and offers...but this is the time of quiet. Begin again as the the new year begins: gradually and steadily; in decreasing darkness, with beacons to beckon until they are not needed anymore; with a slow putting away of all things in their place. Do not skip this next span of time, this next step. It is much needed and you will miss it.
Leave the spectacle behind. Enjoy the lights standing out against the night. They belong here, common beacons toward a purpose. Let them stand for their original purpose, to be bright spots in a season of night. Now is the time of quiet. Let us use it.
