WATERMARK

It’s an odd holiday for me this year. The people I often spend
holidays with are not here, or are no longer in my life, for sometimes
painful reasons. I have an extensive collection of holiday decorations,
but not the energy just now to indulge in them. A few years ago, I
bought a large, pre-lit artificial tree, to make the season more
manageable; last year I didn’t bother with that, and got a very small
one for a very small portion of my ornaments. Even that seems
overwhelming this year.

Gifting has always been the most fun of the holiday for me. I loved
collecting things throughout the year for friends. But that requires
being out in the world, with a wallet. Last year I had a bit of energy,
and made bookmarks with beads; this year I have only a Solstice Letter for giving.  This is my second annual letter; the first changed my life.

Last year, being in somewhat the same position, I decided to write a letter
for family and friends, and send it via email — I got a bit carried
away with it, added photos (with no idea of compression) and it got way
too large for emailing. That led to a website, which led to this
weblog, which led to the others. So now I have something to do each
day, and, at least sometimes, the sense of contributing a bit to the
world.

So I sit in this undecorated, messy house; mostly alone and usually
savoring that solitude. It is only at this usually social time that I
question it. It seems inherent in this annual darkness to look inward,
and backward, to assess where one is and has been. So I do.