honoring the Winter Solstice

We're just a few short days away from the Winter Solstice 🌒 As I prepare for Saturday's offering, I've been thinking A LOT about why we celebrate? In a seemingly never-ending litany of holidays from Halloween to the end of the year, how important is this one?

Because the Solstice feels shoe horned-in just four days before Christmas smack dab amidst all the holiday hustle is exactly why it is essential.

Here's the thing. I'm no scrooge. I unapologetically LOVE everything about this time of year. The extrovert in me chases more parties, more gatherings, all the reasons to be out and about. The child in me wants all the decorations, all the festivities, all the traditions all at once.

I eat too much. I drink too much. I completely abandon the yogic concept of Brahmacharya (moderation). And even though I strive to be intentional, the constant pull toward more can make it feel like I am sprinting through my favorite time of year, unsure how to slow the high-speed train that is me.

It's always felt peculiar to me that the holiday season occurs at a time when nature is asking us to slow down, be still and sit in quiet contemplation. The most extroverted time clashes with Winter's introverted rhythm.

The Solstice is an opportunity to pause so we can truly see and soak up all the magic synonymous with the end of the year. Winter is reflective, a season for moments of simple gratitude. It is a time to recognize all you’ve held this year and how that has shaped you. 

and the art of farting around

Recently, while in line at a drive-through coffee window, I felt a sudden pang of angst. The dopamine hit of an easy caffeine pick-me-up while my two little ones stayed strapped in the backseat paled in comparison to the nagging feeling of living out of alignment. I had forsaken my ethos, choosing convenience over connection.

This action, seemingly small, is the antithesis of who I hope to be. I am infinitely inspired byKurt Vonnegut’s wisdom about the art of farting around, an account of all the interactions he has simply by leaving his house to buy one envelope rather than ordering 100 to his home. Yet here I found myself talking to a screen rather than a human because I didn't want to go through the rigmarole of getting my kiddos out of their carseats...

Our modern era emphasizes busyness, perfectionism and efficiency, often leading to a life isolated. It is when I’m at my busiest that I seek a quick reprieve, the easy way out, convenience over connection. I purchase things and eat food and drink coffee without ever interacting with the hands that touched it before me.

During a dharma talk this past Teacher Training, we pondered the question "What is Enough?"  Recognizing we live in a world where water, food, shelter are unfortunately not a given, we intellectually answer this question with those basic survival needs, believing that should be enoughto feel content.

But is it?