Because you're right. Sometimes symbolism is just...a lot of effort. But when you put the effort in, then it does work.
It's my tradition to stay up all night, keeping vigil for the sun, on the winter solstice night. Now there's a group of us, but I was the one who started it, because it was my vision of Yule.
And then there have been years when I haven't been getting enough sleep for several days before the solstice, and I can't sleep late the morning before, and somewhere in the wee hours it gets to the point where sleep dep makes me feel ill. And finally I stop and say, "The point of this ritual was not an endurance test, to see if I could tough it out. This is not the celebration I was trying to have." A couple years, I've slunk off to sleep for an hour or two. But last year, I took hold of my symbolism and turned things inside out. I'd been going outside every hour or so to check on the night and see how the stars had moved. And then I went upstairs and went to sleep for a couple hours, to check on the night dreaming as well as waking.
You have a lamp with frustratingly little oil in it, an infuriatingly short stub of a candle right now. It makes me angry for you. But while it would be lovely to celebrate Santa Lucia's day with profligacy of light, this year you will celebrating it by cherishing and tending the smaller allotment of light you've been given, and that's another kind of holiday of light.
no subject
And not.
Because you're right. Sometimes symbolism is just...a lot of effort. But when you put the effort in, then it does work.
It's my tradition to stay up all night, keeping vigil for the sun, on the winter solstice night. Now there's a group of us, but I was the one who started it, because it was my vision of Yule.
And then there have been years when I haven't been getting enough sleep for several days before the solstice, and I can't sleep late the morning before, and somewhere in the wee hours it gets to the point where sleep dep makes me feel ill. And finally I stop and say, "The point of this ritual was not an endurance test, to see if I could tough it out. This is not the celebration I was trying to have." A couple years, I've slunk off to sleep for an hour or two. But last year, I took hold of my symbolism and turned things inside out. I'd been going outside every hour or so to check on the night and see how the stars had moved. And then I went upstairs and went to sleep for a couple hours, to check on the night dreaming as well as waking.
You have a lamp with frustratingly little oil in it, an infuriatingly short stub of a candle right now. It makes me angry for you. But while it would be lovely to celebrate Santa Lucia's day with profligacy of light, this year you will celebrating it by cherishing and tending the smaller allotment of light you've been given, and that's another kind of holiday of light.
I wish you much quiet beauty for tomorrow.