In my tradition, we have liturgical seasons. They have their own colors, which really appeal to my asthetic: we begin the year with blue (or purple), move to white (or gold), go to green, then to purple, then red, then white, short burst of red, then to a loooong season of green. We’re in a green season now, Ordinary Time, which means we’re between festivals or “important” church seasons. I love the green time; a time of settling, introspection and growth. I can pay more attention to the interior, as the exterior is quieted.
This green season is short this year, as Lent begins in the third week of February, and I’m basking in the ordinariness of these days. Yes, there’s work, and deadlines, and tending to home, and the interruptions, good and bad — but the undertone is one of winter doldrum — and I am not opposed. Post-Christmas, I’m finding joy in not rushing, not celebrating, not feeling obligated. This short, quiet time invites prayer and introspection, discernment and a little bit of dreaming.
It won’t last, and that’s OK. The older I get, the more I’m accepting of the seasons, the movement of our lives. Soon enough, we’ll be called to the work of Spring, Passover, Lent, Ramadan: remembrance, reflection, renewal. It’s work that we do, and work that is done on us. Necessary work.
But, for these brief days, I’ll breathe more slowly, try to think less and be more, enjoy the returning light. Basking in this sort of ordinary time.