Lest anyone forget, it’s still technically fall, so while the holiday season is in full effect, the true season remains autumn. To that end, there is still avenging to be done, and with Mercury in retrograde providing the necessary mayhem to throw a tantrum and go giddily unnoticed, now may be the time to release some truth bombs that are too heavy to carry.
This Fade-To-Black Fall has been like turning the lights off our Coquette Summer with the flip of a switch. It was night and day, white and black, or at least pink and green. I am realizing that it will ultimately prove helpful to acknowledge and experience sadness, regret, anger, and vengeance. All are valid experiences, and all serve a certain purpose. In the past, I’ve held a lot of that in, to my own detriment, and in the end it all came out in various convoluted and mistaken efforts.
The stress of the holidays can trigger all of that ickiness, stirring up the muck and murky depths of past transgressions and grievances, and deciding to face some of it now is tricky and risky business, perhaps quite foolish business. But the hurt of what haunts us doesn’t retreat for some arbitrary human holiday. Cue the dramatic music, and the unrest of the unmerry gentleman.
Christmas is, contrary to its reputed lore, not kind to the sad and lonely. If this is the spirit that’s supposed to lift us and cheer us up, God may not be helping us as much as we want to believe. Sensing this, I’ve always found sorrow running through the holidays – in a song, in a mood, and culminating in the shortest day of the year.
Night expands.
Darkness envelops.
All is eloquent loneliness.
