The One, the Only . . .

After a bit of holiday cheer (okay, quite a bit), I thought I should share these thoughts with you. I apologize in advance.

Children of the northern hemisphere rejoice - it is the most wonderful time of the year! I’m speaking of course of the winter solstice. Anyone who knows me well knows that it is the one day of the year that I am guaranteed to be my most optimistic and cheerful. (Although generally cheerful, seldom have I been optimistic lately.)

Ah, the solstice, that specific, singular point in earth orbital time when mundane planetary movements take on a special meaning to our species. Okay, maybe not all of us but at least those of us that are prone to depression in winter.

Join me now as we go back in time.

It is not hard to imagine the Druids prancing around and peering into the deep December dusk as the sun disappears below the horizon exactly where it should between the mammoth stones. Then enduring the darkness and hoping that it reappears just where it should on the other side of the great circle. Finally, after a long night of waiting, a tiny hint of light in the southeastern sky is followed by the dawn of a new solar year.

Mead all around!* 

I don't know of any culture or religion that hasn’t found some way to honor this basic cycle of life. And that’s as it should be. There is little in life that we poor, sad humans can depend on to be unchanged and unchangeable – in fact, this is it. So if I choose to wax philosophical about it, cut me some slack!

Why, you may ask, is no such big deal made of the summer solstice? Why that long, languid day of mid-summer when the sun almost refuses to set receives so little attention (outside of Shakespeare – but what does he know.) Ah grasshopper, it’s very simple: when things are going good for humans, like the days getting longer and warmer, we assume they will always be good and we become complacent. But when things start to go bad, when days are getting shorter, we become consumed by fear. Put another way, it occurred to me on my evening walk today that the summer solstice is like a guy point of view; it’s the end of youth and the slow descent into wearing Depends. The winter solstice, on the other hand, is kind of a female thing, like giving birth to new life with all the hope and the optimism that comes with it. (A tortured metaphor perhaps but apt.) In any event, I know this, the days are now getting longer, night is in retreat, optimism abounds and hope is in the air.

Now if I can just pay off my credit card debt (and this damn Druid costume) all will be good in the Pederson corner of the galaxy.

Happy holidays to all my friends, family and hangers on. 

D Roger Pederson

Sophocles of Solstice

* Sadly, they didn't have vodka then for a REAL drink.