As this global pandemic continues, I’ve been reading quite a few articles about “thinking like a Norwegian,” when it comes to retreating into indoor spaces, and welcoming the waning of the light. The concept of “framing” is mentioned, which in laypersons’ language means looking at an inevitable problem as a challenge or an opportunity. Researchers find that Norwegians who “make psychic lemonade” of long, cold, dark, isolating winters, seem to exhibit higher levels of mental, emotional and spiritual health. I’ve never been to Norway; living in New England in Winter is quite enough isolating cold, wet and dark for me.
As I write this, the sun goes down. It’s 5:28pm. My neighbor’s child is practicing his oboe outdoors, as the day’s been warmer and more humid than the calendar often permits. It’s a haunting musical salute to the end of an Autumn day.
The Fall colors are past their prime, the point of land leading into the pond is mostly brown now. The pines have shed millions of needles; the oaks and elms are just starting to let go. Few Halloween festivities can happen this year, and normal plans for large Thanksgiving gatherings must be shelved until it’s safe to gather. How to re-frame all this?
I cannot think my way out of a coming Pandemic Winter, but I can light my morning “happy light,” I can light candles in the evening, I can walk with a friend, I can connect with people. I can pray, read and meditate more, I can do the work that’s given me to do and I can change my behaviors to continue to cope with darkness and disappointment:
Cast a shadow,
Love the leaves,
Bask in moonlight,
Absorb the palette,
Slow your heart,
Lift your head,
Adjust your eyes,
Hear the geese,
Light the candle,
Sock your feet,
Dwell in memories,
Look to lingering light.
Bring home your hunger, your heart.
Bask in what was.
Sink deeply in what will be.
Light is lost, but will return.
This darkness grows us.