Solstice. A changing of the year, from increase to decrease.
Well, that’s summer solstice anyway. Winter solstice goes the other way. It’s very yin-yangy, how the longest day holds the seed of the dark of the year, & the shortest day holds the seed of the year’s light.
It wasn’t until I came up to Alaska that I felt it. In the Lower 48 you notice how much lighter it is in the summer, & how much darker in the winter — but you don’t notice it like you do here. Even this far south of the Arctic Circle (which I’ve been north of only once), night never becomes as pitch dark at the height of summer as it does southward of here. And in winter, well, on some days I never see sunlight, just depending on whether I leave my office or not (I have no windows), or whether my coworker across the suite has his office door open (he has windows). So I notice it. And every solstice, summer or winter, I feel the seed of its opposing solstice in it. On a day like today, bright as it is, I feel a bit blue.
I was going to say that I wasn’t afraid of change, but that’d be a lie. I’m afraid of change, yes I am. But not so afraid of it that I can’t roll with it & be with it & sometimes even rejoice in it. Just like crisis: “opportunity rides on a dangerous wind.” Change isn’t always dangerous, though often enough it is. In any case, there’s opportunity inherent in there, be I only positioned to see & make use of those opportunities.
I’m afraid of the changes in our lives right now as Rozz prepares to be gone from here for three years, as we prepare for the less radical but definitely unpleasant task of finding a new apartment & moving. But I guess we’ll work it through.
