Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving. Most of my family (20 + or -) brought great food, we got to hang out for the afternoon and feel grateful, satiated and obliged to start shopping for Christmas. I celebrate just about any holiday even if I don’t identify with its reason for being. Thanksgiving is a no-brainer; granted there are millions of people in dire straits with little or nothing to celebrate. But if we get it right then it’s a time to share, even if it’s just a token meal at a homeless shelter. Gratitude is the feeling, an emotion that moves us to be thankful, to behave in a selfless way, for the greater good. In all my life I’ve never gone to bed hungry or not had a bed of my own. I suspect that if we made it a weekly celebration it would lose its magic, just another weekend. I have a family that forgives me my foolishness; how lucky can I be?
I like Christmas as well. It’s like Siamese twins, two joined stories and we get to choose the one we like best. One is an excuse to get righteous with traditional religion and many take that route. I prefer the childlike practice of exchanging gifts and even if we can’t make the world a peaceful place we can be at peace with those around us. “. . . Children laughing, people passing, Meeting smile after smile, and on every street corner You’ll hear; Silver Bells, Silver Bells, Soon it will be Christmas day.”
But the December holiday I do take seriously goes by practically unnoticed, four days before Christmas. Winter Solstice has been observed continuously, uninterrupted around the world longer than any other holiday in human history (think of it as a holiday). Ancient people noticed and kept track of the sun’s arc across the sky, measured the length of their shadow at high noon when the sun was straight up, high in the sky as it gets. Every year on the same day, the sun stopped sinking and started pushing its arc back up. On that day a person’s shadow at noon stopped getting longer and every day after measured a tiny bit shorter than the time before.
Imagine 20,000 or 30,000 years ago; our ancestors were just as smart as we are. They were very good at what they did (stay alive) they just didn’t know as much as we do. They knew as days got shorter and noon-shadows got longer that the cold winter season was coming. They had to move around, follow the animals to find food and keep warm as best they could. Times were difficult and life was a struggle, almost enough to give up, lie down and die in their sleep. But they didn’t give up. After thousands of years of watching the arc of the sun and counting days, they knew when their shadows stopped getting longer and the sun’s arc stopped dropping in the southern sky that spring and summer would follow. It was like a promise; “It’s going to be harsh and bitter cold but the sun is coming back and spring will follow, bring new plants and long, warm days so don’t give up.”
For all these thousands of years people have been very good at counting the days, knowing when that shadow will stop getting longer and it hasn’t failed in all of those centuries. It will be harsh and bitter cold but the sun is coming back. I can celebrate that wisdom and perseverance and I do. On December 21 as the sun is setting I build a fire for myself and sometimes a few friends (you gotta have a fire) and welcome the longest dark-night of the year. I listen to music, songs about sunshine and day light, dance around the patio, tell stories and put more wood in the fire. Then we raise a shot of peach brandy to the sun’s return and chase it with milk chocolate Hershey Kiss. Sometimes we repeat that toast several times. After we’ve sung and danced and it’s really dark, only glowing coals left from the fire, we go inside and eat chili.
All I can do is fantasize about those paleolithic people but I’ve done the math and there is; there has to be a continuous, unbroken, genetic linkage between us. I don’t know how special we really are but whether it’s real or just self-ingratiating I feel gratitude and do something physical in their memory, the ones who did the heavy lifting so I can sip brandy and sleep in my own bed.
I like Christmas as well. It’s like Siamese twins, two joined stories and we get to choose the one we like best. One is an excuse to get righteous with traditional religion and many take that route. I prefer the childlike practice of exchanging gifts and even if we can’t make the world a peaceful place we can be at peace with those around us. “. . . Children laughing, people passing, Meeting smile after smile, and on every street corner You’ll hear; Silver Bells, Silver Bells, Soon it will be Christmas day.”
But the December holiday I do take seriously goes by practically unnoticed, four days before Christmas. Winter Solstice has been observed continuously, uninterrupted around the world longer than any other holiday in human history (think of it as a holiday). Ancient people noticed and kept track of the sun’s arc across the sky, measured the length of their shadow at high noon when the sun was straight up, high in the sky as it gets. Every year on the same day, the sun stopped sinking and started pushing its arc back up. On that day a person’s shadow at noon stopped getting longer and every day after measured a tiny bit shorter than the time before.
Imagine 20,000 or 30,000 years ago; our ancestors were just as smart as we are. They were very good at what they did (stay alive) they just didn’t know as much as we do. They knew as days got shorter and noon-shadows got longer that the cold winter season was coming. They had to move around, follow the animals to find food and keep warm as best they could. Times were difficult and life was a struggle, almost enough to give up, lie down and die in their sleep. But they didn’t give up. After thousands of years of watching the arc of the sun and counting days, they knew when their shadows stopped getting longer and the sun’s arc stopped dropping in the southern sky that spring and summer would follow. It was like a promise; “It’s going to be harsh and bitter cold but the sun is coming back and spring will follow, bring new plants and long, warm days so don’t give up.”
For all these thousands of years people have been very good at counting the days, knowing when that shadow will stop getting longer and it hasn’t failed in all of those centuries. It will be harsh and bitter cold but the sun is coming back. I can celebrate that wisdom and perseverance and I do. On December 21 as the sun is setting I build a fire for myself and sometimes a few friends (you gotta have a fire) and welcome the longest dark-night of the year. I listen to music, songs about sunshine and day light, dance around the patio, tell stories and put more wood in the fire. Then we raise a shot of peach brandy to the sun’s return and chase it with milk chocolate Hershey Kiss. Sometimes we repeat that toast several times. After we’ve sung and danced and it’s really dark, only glowing coals left from the fire, we go inside and eat chili.
All I can do is fantasize about those paleolithic people but I’ve done the math and there is; there has to be a continuous, unbroken, genetic linkage between us. I don’t know how special we really are but whether it’s real or just self-ingratiating I feel gratitude and do something physical in their memory, the ones who did the heavy lifting so I can sip brandy and sleep in my own bed.
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