But as usual, I can't help but wonder, "What if?"
What if, Thanksgiving at Midnight, we all fully entered into Nature's gift of silence, darkness, and stillness? What if we all had the next four weeks off (from work or other obligations) to at least half-hibernate? What if we woke up late every morning with the sun, and went to bed early, soon after sunset? What if we stayed close to home, and after an early supper, turned off all electronics and most lights, just leaving one on to read by? What if this coming month was dedicated to our creative selves, so that artists would paint during the daylight hours, and musicians and dancers would practice, and writers would write, and mystics would think, and knitters would knit, and sewers would sew, and woodworkers would build? What if we really did just make a few homemade gifts for our dearest friends? What if those who loved to cook spent the month baking and simmering winter stews on the back of the stove, in readiness for the celebrations of late December? What if we walked more, or helped neighbors more with shoveling and warm clothes, or watched stars and northern lights more? What if we really remembered what it was like to be still, and slightly sleepy, looking out from our warm caves at the brilliant night sky or bare trees bending sideways in the frigid wind?
And then, what if mid-to-late December's chosen festivities really were about the return of the light, and songs and carols breaking the silence, and pageants celebrating life's hopeful, brave story? What if our feasts hungrily and enthusiastically ended a month of basic survival? What if, after a quiet, inward-looking few weeks, we embraced each other and gave select gifts and heard the heavenly choirs and really understood what it was all about? What if the holiday season made sense again? What if Thanksgiving at Midnight made sense again?
