A friend recently told me a story about how her brother, Jim, used to handle her nephew, Mason, when he was young and misbehaving. Jim--a "tall, unflappable man with dancing blue eyes and a disarming laugh"--would lift Mason high in the air, turn him in the opposite direction, place him down gently, and say, "new direction, new start!"
Yesterday was the winter solstice. The sun is far from the equator, and our hours of light are precious few. The dark gets into us, doesn't it? And it isn't just the meager sunlight that shrouds our hearts. It's the dark of pandemic, of loneliness, of political strife, of inequality, of mental illness, of cabin fever, of homeschooling, of relationship stress, of addiction, of illness, of missing people.
But today is the day after the darkest day, my friend. Today, there is more light than there was yesterday. Like little Mason in his dad's corrective arms, we have been picked up and turned around. We are facing in a new direction. As my friend put it:
We are longing.
We are choosing.
We are trying.
We are imagining.
THE LIGHT IS COMING!
What's your new direction? What is the nature of your turning? Caring for yourself a bit more? Tuning into your desires a bit more? Daring to hope a bit more? Trusting the process a bit more? Letting go a bit more? Paying attention a bit more? Feeling what you actually feel (without judging it or running from it) a bit more?
May each infinitesimally brighter day bring you that much closer to the Life that's calling.