It is indeed January and here I am back in the regular time slot, sitting in my wagon ready to push off into a new week, a new month and a new year. Well, sort of ready. Maybe just thinking about getting ready...and facing backwards.
That season we were in such a rush to get to, in such a frenetic flurry of frolic to celebrate, now seems to be the season we can't get rid of fast enough. It's a shame really. I mean not even the Wise Men have shown up yet and we're being pushed to kick the family and feast to the curb.
But in my house, the creche, the tree, the lights indoors and out, stay up and twinkling until Epiphany (January 6) and then a couple of days more in honour of orthodox Christmas (January 7).
The only elements of our faith-full celebrations that have been tucked away are the menorah and the dreidels. Hanukkah ended at sunset yesterday.
Though slow to step up to the plate, a week from now I too will join the throngs of those batting Christmas out of the house, out of sight, undoing much of what was done in December.
From twinkling lights to festive tables;
from Christmas trees to crystal stars and crafted angels;
from creche to shepherds and a trio of late magi, who I'm sure will show up at the appointed time;
from candles and dancing rabbis,
from cookies to waistbands; all in their own way must give way to the new year.
Empty of the razzle dazzle that powered December days, a hodgepodge of resolutions
- to do more, to do less; to be more, to be less -
rush in to fill the void in life's fuel tank.
January is just one big correction after another.
©2017 April Hoeller