It is four pm and already the light is waning. I switch on the porch light for my 4:30 student. Dusk is painfully early. I resist closing the drapes because I am saving the little light there is in the sky. Once the living room is closed off from the night, it will be cozy but I put off committing to the inevitable longest night.
Winter is a time of waiting for me. I do more reading, jigsaw puzzling, art making, and baking, all wonderful pastimes but I know down deep that I am waiting. I would like to wait with mindfulness. I bought tickets today to a children's theater show. The date of the event is April 25. I remember how much I love April. The world will be alive with regrowth and it will be light as I come home from the gym.
This season the insides are aglow. I can be more mindful about my insides, cast light on the shadowy halls of my fears and anxieties. There are many ways I must simply employ my gift of waiting. I can learn to like waiting because there is anticipation in waiting. There will be new growth, new adventures, and the best of all, more day.
Three years ago I took the longest walk on the shortest day.