Do you remember the happiest day of your life? What about the saddest? Do you ever wonder if sadness and happiness can be combined, to make a deep purple feeling, not good, not bad, but remarkable simply because you didn't have to live on one side or the other?
We are entering the darkest days. The next six weeks, three before and three after midwinter. When I was a child, this was a time of silences, in the 1960s in Franconia, there was snow or sleet, dark forest, early evenings with advent candles, baking, lots of baking, no commercial xmas jingle bell clutter. Not yet.
This winter will also be a silent one as we are about to enter a hard lockdown, probably until mid January.
I don't mind the darkness of winter, I can cope with the cold, foggy weather. I am a grown up, I know it's really just a short few weeks. But I admit that we are tense, unsettled. Trying to find the right words to explain this feeling, all that I can come up with is that I am sad. We are living through the saddest days, the saddest time. And I don't just mean the pandemic. We are a hopeless species, really. Let's face it. We've made a mess of things.
Oh no doubt, I'll cheer up again soon. I hope so.
Thank you for the Ocean Voung quote. The words that have come up to describe my feelings lately are edgy, unsettled and sad. December and January have been good months for me, full of light, in recent years, but this year so much is on hold and shadowy. Your music choice is heartening. Thank you.ReplyDelete
I don't like the cold. The dark I can manage but it's the cold that gets me and I can't wait for January to be over. Maybe it's the dark too:)ReplyDelete
I feel like I'm in limbo, like we're all in limbo, just waiting, to see what happens, to see if we get sick, to see if the vaccine works, to see if trump finally leaves and shuts up once and for all.
The holidays can disturb me, even though I love so much about this time of year. I am often triggered by horrific Christmases in my childhood, and feel a terrible emptiness deep inside, an abyss of pain that can never be completely ignored, no matter how hard I try. Yet, I am always bolstered by memories of the excellent Christmases my husband and I have made over the past half century. If only I could find that deep purple feeling to balance me at this time of the year. It would be such a tremendous relief.ReplyDelete
I feel the way Lilycedar does- waiting- and the way you do too- sad often. Sometimes we do just have to remember that to everything there truly is a season. This is a dark one.ReplyDelete
We are experiencing something so profound, so unusual, so unsettling. There is so little relief and so much pain. We are on our way to winter solstice in just a few days. Then... the light begins to return. I tend to be a pessimist, but I am looking forward to progress in every way on this pandemic. Once Trump leaves office, I will exhale and hope for better days. If only my fellow humans would follow protocols and guidelines. Ha ha, there I go being pessimistic myself again. Take care there, Sabine.ReplyDelete
Oh I forgot to write how much I love the music, Sabine. Thank you for that.ReplyDelete
Liebe Sabine, I do appreciate your choice of music videos! Today would have been my sweet Mamma's 80th birthday, and I catch myself thinking that the only good thing about losing her so early is that she did not have to suffer through this year. It has been a hard journey. I tend to immerse myself in projects during this time before and following the solstice. On Monday the electors meet. May there be light at the end of the tunnel ...ReplyDelete
well, I've thought for decades that humans will be one of the least successful life forms this planet has produced in terms of how long we exist. we are destructive to ourselves and the planet.ReplyDelete
I live far enough south that I still have plenty of light even in the shortest days. there was a time when I hated this time of year, the hypocrisy of the joy and peace and love and giving, the heart's desire bullshit when so many people are struggling and can't give their kids the excess we are conditioned to expect from this time of year and then it all evaporates and people go about their lives ignoring or demonizing or blaming those who are struggling, when they all become invisible again.
and the next 39 days waiting waiting waiting while Trump does as much damage as he can while he still can. and covid waiting waiting waiting for a cure or a vaccine or for people to act like adults. proud boys rioting in the streets, 4 people stabbed, 1 shot and where are the police?
This IS a sad time, no question. I'm having challenging days here too, and our lockdown isn't as severe as yours. I guess we just have to keep thinking, this WILL come to an end. At least the lockdown part. All the rest -- the state of the globe in general -- well, that's a long-term project.ReplyDelete
My daughter asked why we get sleepy so early and I think it's because we should sleep more in the winter. The dark calls us, calls us to be warm, to hold our loved ones in our arms, to remember how brief our lives really are. After this terrible year, we have lived on the edge of that abyss too long for counting. Being friends with the dark is my journey this year, perhaps for many of us. We are changed by all that has gone on. What will we do with that knowledge going forward? What do our lives mean?ReplyDelete
You could, of course, relish the fact you may be dispassionate about yourself, see things objectively, clarity beyond the murk. Time travel without let or hindrance.ReplyDelete
In 1953, aged only seventeen, I awoke at Drosselweg 13 in Hattingen-Ruhr. It was only 8.30 but there was an urge about me I needed to identify. Ah, yes, that was it - I wanted a beer. At 8.30 of a hot morning! I'd done an awful lot of drinking during that ecstatic exchange holiday and, in my bed, I concluded - without regret - I was well on the way to delirium tremens
Today, sixty-seven years later, I awoke at roughly the same time, and reflected DT didn't happen. Two thoughts which (potentially) co-exist within my mind, the one sort of cancelling out the other, reminding me of how this happens with fractions. The randomness suggesting I have access to a self-designed universe. You too.
I climb into bed at night earlier and earlier. The best that can be said for this moment is that I am not hopeless. But sad, yes. Me too.ReplyDelete