I was driving home on Friday night, January 4. In the cold. In the dark. On my beloved back road.
Noticing the houses who have given up on the holidays. Lights out, trees gone. That included two of my favorite houses that brought me a lot of pleasure over the past few weeks. I was disappointed to see them give up so easily.
We don't know how or when to end this. You have the twelve days and all that, but the extinguishing of the spirit happens randomly, on no schedule.
On Monday night when I am coming home, 99% of the lights will be out. But there will be a few who keep lighting the lights. For a while.
I love those people. They like the feeling and they keep it going until it suits them to stop. They always bring a smile to my lips.
The transition is too abrupt. We should light candles on the mantel to ease our re-entry into the day to day.
Put six of them up there, big fat colorful ones. A few days after the new year, light five. Then four.
Do it on your own schedule, do it in a way that is gentle with your soul.
People dig the lights as more than a celebration of Christmas. I think people dig the lights for the color and the change it brings into their lives. I truly believe this.
Throw the rule book out. Be an individual.
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