I feel really cozy and like writing more when winter starts blowing it's chill my way. (Something of Bergman in that maybe...the northern solitude, the indoors becomes the "inner"). I am reminded of an experience I had a few years back. This was during those heady days of working the office job, yes, a nine to fiver, feeling pretty much like a fish out of water. It was Christmas week, and my boss decided to give us some extra time off. The business we were in pretty much tanked after the Christmas holiday and we would sit around with nothing to do anyway. It was such a nice and welcome surprise. I recall the relish with which I anticipated the time off, with the holiday shopping over during that sleepy week between Christmas Day and New Year's Eve. It also put me in mind of a certain birth...um... no not Jesus. My son, Nicholas, was born on December 25th, thus sealing that day as one of unequivocal importance in my personal journey. And yeah the Jesus thing is cool too.
I digress, sort of. I just remember these few extra days as being extraordinarily delightful in a way I did not expect. The young child was playing in the next room, showing off the new birthday Christmas toys to friends, or on a play date, hubby at work, poor guy. And I was sitting next to the jolly tree, with a cup of tea, reading, journaling, looking out at the grey darkness that I could decide not to venture into, and feeling so decadently bad and so deliciously good. I keep going back to this theme it seems, the quiet, the inner, the stillness that reminds me who I am and that I am, as they say, not a human "doing" but a human "being". It it in those moments that things emerge from the depths, things I need, things I crave, things that cannot be bought or sold, nor coached, nor required. These are a few of my favorite things.