LONGEST NIGHT

I woke up early today, dozed off and on until the alarm squawked 6:00 a.m. Sometimes if sleeping soundly, I turn it off and catch up on whatever sleep deficit I’ve accumulated. But I jumped up this a.m., did all of my wake-up-get-up protocol; it’s dark outside, of course it’s dark. Today’s daylight is packaged from 7:27 a.m. to 4:56 p.m. I know it’s a clear new day, my smart phone said it would be but I’ve downed a bowl of fruit and cereal, on my second cup of coffee and at 7:10 still nor a trace of light leaking in through the blinds. The good news is that I’m up. It’s a new day and I get to spend it. I can save today’s dollar and spend it tomorrow but not so with time. If you don’t spend it in the “Now”, on the fly, it goes wasted and I have the whole day to spend, maybe judiciously, maybe with reckless abandon.

We are ten days away from one of my favorite (if not my favorite) holidays. Back before Baby Jesus, before Confucius, before Gilgamesh; back when our ancestors lived the hunter-gatherer life style in small, family clans; the closest they came to religion was expressions of gratitude and reverence for their forbearers. They knew about the longest night. There is a tendency for we (smart, modern, intelligent people) to view those old sages as primitive no-so-smarts. But to the contrary, they were as smart as we are, knew just as much stuff, just different stuff. All knowledge was by first hand experience or word of mouth and they had to know everything, absolutely everything necessary to survive in a dangerous, hostile, low tech world where an impacted tooth could kill you and starvation was an ever present possibility. They were plenty smart. The anatomy and physiology of the human brain hasn’t changed significantly in the last thirty thousand years. Those paleo-people knew all there was to be known about everything to be found, within a day’s walking distance in any direction. They all knew about the longest night. 

We call it, Winter Solstice; the day when the sun’s trajectory sinks to its lowest path across the sky, when shadows are their longest and our photoperiod (daylight hours) is its shortest. As that photoperiod got shorter, weather got colder and food, harder to come by. They knew that winter equated to hard times. Even if they couldn’t count they could measure the length of a stick’s shadow. Sort of like Noah’s rainbow, the shortest day was likewise a promise that the high arching sun would return and with it, the warm, growing season. A cold, bitter winter lay ahead but its promise always kept. Winter Solstice is without a doubt the oldest, longest celebrated holiday, if you will, that humans have ever observed. I will be celebrating Solstice in another 10 days. 

The early Roman church made a practice of highjacking pagan holidays to coincide with Christian holy days, making it easier to convert the heathens. The biblical account of Baby Jesus birth aligns with March or April but moving it to late December had pagan appeal. I have devout friends who urge me to remember the reason for the season, as if Christmas was the only reason. Don’t get me wrong, we all have our own reasons and that’s alright. I like the Peace on Earth thing and Good Will To Man as well as the idea that a small child might reconcile the hopes and fears of all the years. But my belief is anchored farther back in the long shadows of mid-winter. 

Some friends are coming over to help me celebrate. With a bonfire and a few sips of peach brandy, we will dress for the weather. When it feels right, we’ll come inside for green chili and sopapillas. Last year we played hearts, and what’s a celebration without music, I might even dance. For myself, it will be about the good company I keep and about a Stone Age legacy; thank you for the DNA, all of you who shared, who made me who I am. I will take comfort in the longest shadow and the sun’s return; not as soon as we would like but in its own good time.