I have a big fear of sharing my long-term plans with anyone until I know for 100% sure they're going to happen. I think I'm afraid I'm going to jinx myself and end up looking like a failure if I change my mind or don't finish something. But sharing my plans also helps make them more real to me and allows people to offer help and advice. So here are some of the plans I've come up with for the next few years.
1. Start saving money
This isn't a goal in itself so much as a necessary first step for achieving the other goals. Unfortunately, saving money means that paying half my income in rent is not going to be sustainable long-term, so I need to figure out how to either make more or spend less. (Or both.)
2. Go to Goddard College and finish my BA
While I currently don't have specific plans for a line of work that requires a degree, it does seem silly to be doing nothing with my AA when it wouldn't take much more work to get a BA. Goddard is a pretty unique school that awards credit for prior learning and also offers a BA you essentially design yourself. This seems like a pretty good deal since my experience tells me no one in the real world really cares what your BA is actually in. (Pro tip, kids: do volunteer work in a field related to your dream job. It matters so much more.) Goddard also only requires you to actually be present on campus (which incidentally is in Vermont) for one week out of the year, which makes it a good fit with my next goal...
3. Sell my house and go RVing
These are actually two separate goals, because selling the house will be a huge project in itself. I own a property in Florida that would be worthless except that it includes a good couple acres of land. It will be difficult to sell, and it won't get me enough money to buy another house. But it will easily cover the cost of an RV. I've been wanting to go RVing for a few years now, but I put that dream on hold when I moved to Massachusetts. The big difference now is that after living in a few places I've realized all I need is a place to sleep, a place to eat, a bathroom and a laptop. So instead of a big hulking class A Winnebago, I've decided to go with something smaller like a class B camper van or a pickup truck hauling an Airstream trailer.
4. Get top surgery and legally change my name
These are the only two steps left for me to consider my gender transition complete. Chest reconstruction surgery is expensive and not usually covered by insurance, so this is also dependent on getting the house sold. Changing my name is much cheaper and easier but I want to get all the legal headaches of selling the house out of the way before I do it. The tricky part is I don't want to be recovering from major surgery in an RV so I'll have to do that in between selling the house and setting out on my travels.
Those are my big goals for now. The main thing is I don't know where to start any of them. So if you have any advice on how to figure out what I want to study (which I have to know before I can write my Goddard application essay), or how to sell a house when you live in an entirely different part of the country, please let me know.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
I Don't Feel Like Being Extraordinary Today
I'm a big fan of Blake Boles' project, Zero Tuition College. I'm also horribly intimidated by it. For example, one member's project presents honorary degrees to students who demonstrate "(1) strong track record of self-directed learning, (2) an impressive breadth and depth of education, and (3) evidence of successful application of one's learning."
Which brings me to a question I've often pondered along with my fellow young adult unschoolers, when we're all alone and the pressure of society's judgement is off.
Do we really need to be impressive?
Don't get me wrong; I find a lot of unschoolers impressive, and I think people who want to reach for extraordinary goals should be encouraged. But does being unschoolers somehow obligate us to prove how special we are?
I'm not at a point in my life where going out on big adventures is an option. What I'm doing instead is addressing a lot of things that need healing in my life, both physically and emotionally. It doesn't result in a life that sounds cool on paper. I'm not backpacking through South America or starting my own business from a childhood hobby. I'm not writing books, or even blogging that much.
But I'm examining my needs and finding the resources I need to meet them. I think that's the goal I'd aim for in raising my own children: that they know what they need and how to get it, whether they need adventure or a quiet life in the suburbs. I know it's been, and continues to be, a long hard fight just to be able to name my needs, let alone meet them. And I hope the people who need big adventures continue to seek them. But I also hope we as a community don't lose sight of what's important: raising kids who can identify and meet their needs. All that big impressive stuff should be a means to that end. Being impressive shouldn't be an end in itself, and it definitely shouldn't be presented to kids - either directly or indirectly - as something they owe the unschooling community.
Unschoolers, you don't owe anybody anything. Living an ordinary life is proof enough that unschooling "worked". Meet your needs, and don't worry about what your life looks like to anybody else.
Which brings me to a question I've often pondered along with my fellow young adult unschoolers, when we're all alone and the pressure of society's judgement is off.
Do we really need to be impressive?
Don't get me wrong; I find a lot of unschoolers impressive, and I think people who want to reach for extraordinary goals should be encouraged. But does being unschoolers somehow obligate us to prove how special we are?
I'm not at a point in my life where going out on big adventures is an option. What I'm doing instead is addressing a lot of things that need healing in my life, both physically and emotionally. It doesn't result in a life that sounds cool on paper. I'm not backpacking through South America or starting my own business from a childhood hobby. I'm not writing books, or even blogging that much.
But I'm examining my needs and finding the resources I need to meet them. I think that's the goal I'd aim for in raising my own children: that they know what they need and how to get it, whether they need adventure or a quiet life in the suburbs. I know it's been, and continues to be, a long hard fight just to be able to name my needs, let alone meet them. And I hope the people who need big adventures continue to seek them. But I also hope we as a community don't lose sight of what's important: raising kids who can identify and meet their needs. All that big impressive stuff should be a means to that end. Being impressive shouldn't be an end in itself, and it definitely shouldn't be presented to kids - either directly or indirectly - as something they owe the unschooling community.
Unschoolers, you don't owe anybody anything. Living an ordinary life is proof enough that unschooling "worked". Meet your needs, and don't worry about what your life looks like to anybody else.
Friday, February 17, 2012
The Real (Man's) World
It seems like the main accusation lobbed against unschooling have to do with the idea that unschoolers somehow exist outside reality:
"Without rules and punishment, how will they ever learn to function in the real world?"
"Sure, I can see how you could unschool your way into being an artist or a writer, but how could an unschooler get a real job like being a doctor or lawyer?"
To which most unschooling parents respond by blinking and looking around, wondering if their homes and children are actually holograms and they've somehow failed to notice until it was pointed out to them. "Isn't this real?" is the usual - and logically sound - protest.
However, I think the naysayers are onto something. Unschooling does allow kids to exist outside of reality - at least, one particular type of reality. Let's reframe the arguments above from a feminist perspective:
"Without being forced to comply with people bigger and more powerful than they are, how will they ever learn to give in to the kyriarchy in the future? How will they learn that their lives and bodies belong not to them, but to whoever happens to be older, whiter, richer, or more male than they are?"
"Sure, I can see how unschoolers could get artsy frou-frou jobs that don't really matter, but how will they compete in a male-dominated profession - the only ones that really count?"
I'd like to suggest that these are the arguments that are really being made - whether the people making them realize it or not. In a patriarchal society, we are conditioned from birth to believe we must give respect to things typically associated with maleness: dominance, competition, cold rationality, discipline, left-brain thinking. Meanwhile, we're taught that we must not give respect to things traditionally associated with femaleness: cooperation, compassion, sympathy, free expression of emotion, creativity, nurturance, right-brain thinking. School, being part of the kyriarchy (the societal system of oppression designed to uphold the dominance of white, middle-aged, wealthy, heterosexual, able-bodied men), is designed to uphold the former, "masculine" set of traits and values. The second, "feminine" set is strongly discouraged by schooling, but is encouraged by unschooling.
School used to be more overtly patriarchal, allowing only boys a pass to higher education and higher pay while ensuring women remained uneducated and housebound. Today girls and women are allowed to attend school, but in a system that shames them (not to mention boys and men!) for exhibiting any sort of feminine tendencies. It sets up a catch-22 where in order to be a success as a woman, one must mimic and compete with men. For feminine, right-brained, sensitive, or introverted people of any gender (because remember it is the association with femaleness that is considered undesirable by patriarchy, not just femaleness itself), the idea of simply finding success with their own natural skills is never brought to the table in school. They must change who they are or risk failure and humiliation. That's how the system keeps people from flourishing in a way that threatens patriarchal dominance.
So when people who, consciously or unconsciously, uphold the kyriarchy first hear of unschooling, it is simultaneously devalued and seen as a threat to their own system of values. Simply put, what they mean by "the real world" is the man's world. What you are doing, when you unschool, is removing your children from a system that says the man's way is the only way. Of course, unschooling certainly can and does produce doctors, businesspeople and other traditional professionals, if that's what those unschoolers genuinely want to be. What unschooling doesn't do is tell kids those are the only things to be. The reason unschooling is so good at producing writers, artists, doulas, homemakers, alternative-school teachers, caregivers, and other "feminine" professionals is because unschooling gives these people more than a snowball's chance in hell at success. It does not stomp on their spirits from toddlerhood on until they finally give up and conform.
So the next time someone asks how your kid is going to get a "real" job in the "real" world, know that this person is, intentionally or not, upholding systems of oppression that are designed to set up most of the population (women, people of color, people with disabilities, the working class, people who don't conform to gender norms) for failure. And know that by choosing unschooling, you're supporting a system that is designed to work with who people are, to allow them a way to succeed without impersonating someone else.
Which one sounds more real to you?
"Without rules and punishment, how will they ever learn to function in the real world?"
"Sure, I can see how you could unschool your way into being an artist or a writer, but how could an unschooler get a real job like being a doctor or lawyer?"
To which most unschooling parents respond by blinking and looking around, wondering if their homes and children are actually holograms and they've somehow failed to notice until it was pointed out to them. "Isn't this real?" is the usual - and logically sound - protest.
However, I think the naysayers are onto something. Unschooling does allow kids to exist outside of reality - at least, one particular type of reality. Let's reframe the arguments above from a feminist perspective:
"Without being forced to comply with people bigger and more powerful than they are, how will they ever learn to give in to the kyriarchy in the future? How will they learn that their lives and bodies belong not to them, but to whoever happens to be older, whiter, richer, or more male than they are?"
"Sure, I can see how unschoolers could get artsy frou-frou jobs that don't really matter, but how will they compete in a male-dominated profession - the only ones that really count?"
I'd like to suggest that these are the arguments that are really being made - whether the people making them realize it or not. In a patriarchal society, we are conditioned from birth to believe we must give respect to things typically associated with maleness: dominance, competition, cold rationality, discipline, left-brain thinking. Meanwhile, we're taught that we must not give respect to things traditionally associated with femaleness: cooperation, compassion, sympathy, free expression of emotion, creativity, nurturance, right-brain thinking. School, being part of the kyriarchy (the societal system of oppression designed to uphold the dominance of white, middle-aged, wealthy, heterosexual, able-bodied men), is designed to uphold the former, "masculine" set of traits and values. The second, "feminine" set is strongly discouraged by schooling, but is encouraged by unschooling.
School used to be more overtly patriarchal, allowing only boys a pass to higher education and higher pay while ensuring women remained uneducated and housebound. Today girls and women are allowed to attend school, but in a system that shames them (not to mention boys and men!) for exhibiting any sort of feminine tendencies. It sets up a catch-22 where in order to be a success as a woman, one must mimic and compete with men. For feminine, right-brained, sensitive, or introverted people of any gender (because remember it is the association with femaleness that is considered undesirable by patriarchy, not just femaleness itself), the idea of simply finding success with their own natural skills is never brought to the table in school. They must change who they are or risk failure and humiliation. That's how the system keeps people from flourishing in a way that threatens patriarchal dominance.
So when people who, consciously or unconsciously, uphold the kyriarchy first hear of unschooling, it is simultaneously devalued and seen as a threat to their own system of values. Simply put, what they mean by "the real world" is the man's world. What you are doing, when you unschool, is removing your children from a system that says the man's way is the only way. Of course, unschooling certainly can and does produce doctors, businesspeople and other traditional professionals, if that's what those unschoolers genuinely want to be. What unschooling doesn't do is tell kids those are the only things to be. The reason unschooling is so good at producing writers, artists, doulas, homemakers, alternative-school teachers, caregivers, and other "feminine" professionals is because unschooling gives these people more than a snowball's chance in hell at success. It does not stomp on their spirits from toddlerhood on until they finally give up and conform.
So the next time someone asks how your kid is going to get a "real" job in the "real" world, know that this person is, intentionally or not, upholding systems of oppression that are designed to set up most of the population (women, people of color, people with disabilities, the working class, people who don't conform to gender norms) for failure. And know that by choosing unschooling, you're supporting a system that is designed to work with who people are, to allow them a way to succeed without impersonating someone else.
Which one sounds more real to you?
Sunday, February 12, 2012
When a Celebrity Dies
Celebrities, being people, have a tendency to die. And when they die, two things usually happen:
1) There is an outpouring of grief, both from fans of the celebrity and from people who are just sad to hear of any death;
2) There is a backlash, wherein people - some well-meaning, but many just bullies - start ranting about how people shouldn't mourn celebrities because [pick one: people die all the time, you should be worried about x other societal problem, that celebrity wouldn't mourn if you died, etc.]. Often this is accompanied by some broad statement about how sad it is that celebrities are so valuable in our society.
I wasn't a huge fan of Whitney Houston, but I remember looking up to her as a kid because she was one of the few people on the radio who could really sing. I remember her as one of the few black role models I had as a white kid in a mostly-white community, in a town where black kids and white kids didn't play together. (Black kids need black role models so they know they can succeed; white kids need black role models so that respecting a black person does not seem foreign to them.)
When a celebrity dies, and people mourn, we're not just mourning someone who sang pretty songs or made entertaining movies. We're mourning a human being whose life affected ours in some way. We're paying respect to the fact that those pretty songs, those entertaining movies, or that inspiration to be more than we previously thought we could be - those came from a person. We're acknowledging that this person lived to provide us with entertainment, and in many cases died because of it. Most of all, we're recognizing that a human being has died, and not just any random human, but one we knew things about. One we watched for years, often seeing a struggle against drug addiction, or domestic violence, or mental illness played out on international television. If we have any conscience, we watched with sadness and with some hope that they'd pull through and have a happy ending. And if we have any conscience, when we learn that such a happy ending is never to be, we mourn.
And if there is any broad statement about society to be made here, I would say that it is this: It's sad that we live in a world in which some people are deemed to have deserved to die simply because they were human and made weak, vulnerable, human choices sometimes, just like we all do.
1) There is an outpouring of grief, both from fans of the celebrity and from people who are just sad to hear of any death;
2) There is a backlash, wherein people - some well-meaning, but many just bullies - start ranting about how people shouldn't mourn celebrities because [pick one: people die all the time, you should be worried about x other societal problem, that celebrity wouldn't mourn if you died, etc.]. Often this is accompanied by some broad statement about how sad it is that celebrities are so valuable in our society.
I wasn't a huge fan of Whitney Houston, but I remember looking up to her as a kid because she was one of the few people on the radio who could really sing. I remember her as one of the few black role models I had as a white kid in a mostly-white community, in a town where black kids and white kids didn't play together. (Black kids need black role models so they know they can succeed; white kids need black role models so that respecting a black person does not seem foreign to them.)
When a celebrity dies, and people mourn, we're not just mourning someone who sang pretty songs or made entertaining movies. We're mourning a human being whose life affected ours in some way. We're paying respect to the fact that those pretty songs, those entertaining movies, or that inspiration to be more than we previously thought we could be - those came from a person. We're acknowledging that this person lived to provide us with entertainment, and in many cases died because of it. Most of all, we're recognizing that a human being has died, and not just any random human, but one we knew things about. One we watched for years, often seeing a struggle against drug addiction, or domestic violence, or mental illness played out on international television. If we have any conscience, we watched with sadness and with some hope that they'd pull through and have a happy ending. And if we have any conscience, when we learn that such a happy ending is never to be, we mourn.
And if there is any broad statement about society to be made here, I would say that it is this: It's sad that we live in a world in which some people are deemed to have deserved to die simply because they were human and made weak, vulnerable, human choices sometimes, just like we all do.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Reaching out
This is a difficult post for me to write, because I know so many people have worse problems going on than I do. But I'm writing it because I don't know what else to do.
I'm depressed, no matter what I do. I've been hospitalized twice and spent three months in a therapeutic day program. I go to weekly therapy, read good self-help books and take my medication faithfully. I won't hurt myself - I can't do that to the people I love - but I don't wake up with any sense that there's anything good to get out of bed for. I'm fine at work but I come home and I want to cry. I can see that people don't like or respect me and I know that it's because I don't like or respect myself. But I have no idea how to do that. I've been trying so hard.
I'm not writing this just to whine, but I'm a little bit desperate for some kind of help. Maybe someone out there will have the right words or know the right book or the right resource to help me. Maybe nothing can help me, I don't know. But I can't give up until I've tried everything and this is the last thing I know to try. Someone help me if you can. Please.
I'm depressed, no matter what I do. I've been hospitalized twice and spent three months in a therapeutic day program. I go to weekly therapy, read good self-help books and take my medication faithfully. I won't hurt myself - I can't do that to the people I love - but I don't wake up with any sense that there's anything good to get out of bed for. I'm fine at work but I come home and I want to cry. I can see that people don't like or respect me and I know that it's because I don't like or respect myself. But I have no idea how to do that. I've been trying so hard.
I'm not writing this just to whine, but I'm a little bit desperate for some kind of help. Maybe someone out there will have the right words or know the right book or the right resource to help me. Maybe nothing can help me, I don't know. But I can't give up until I've tried everything and this is the last thing I know to try. Someone help me if you can. Please.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
My Un-College Un-Curriculum
I seem to be coming out of a prolonged, but necessary, sort of emotional and spiritual hibernation period. Now that I have energy again, life is starting to happen. And in some ways that life looks oddly like school... but in other ways it is very definitely not like school.
For much of my life I've struggled to pin down what kind of structure I need. I've always known that rigid, school-like structure makes me feel way too constrained and unhappy. I'm a floaty, flighty, right-brained sort of person who jumps quickly from one idea or topic to the next. (School-type people tend to call this ADD, although I'm sure it's the same quality that got me put in "gifted" class as a kid. Go figure.) So it doesn't work well to say, for example, that I'll work on studying physics from 9:00-10:30, because odds are I'm going to work on physics for 5 minutes and then be reminded of something from the I Ching or the French Revolution or Star Trek, and before I know it I have open two books and six tabs of Wikipedia, none of which are about physics.
And that's how it should be! If I'm studying a topic, and it's not engaging my imagination and sparking connections to everything else in the universe, what's the point of studying it?
So strict schedules, while appealing in their predictability, really don't work for me. On the other hand, being totally open-ended doesn't work so well for me either. What ends up happening when I have no plan at all is that I sort of spin in place, having a vague sense that there's stuff I want to do but having no idea where to start. Then I just end up refreshing Facebook a bunch of times, feeling bored and frustrated that I'm not doing what I want to do.
In the past, I've gone through a vicious cycle of doing nothing, getting restless, designing an elaborate schedule, doing it for two days, rebelling and being all "internet FOREVER", then starting the whole cycle over again. (I blame my years in school for teaching me that this is the only way to have structure.)
I think I've finally discovered a happy medium, though. See, what I really need isn't exactly "structure" in the school sense - someone to tell me what to do and when to do it - but focus. I don't need a route already planned for me, but I do need a map so I can decide if I want to go this way or that instead of drifting aimlessly from place to place.
So the way I'm approaching things this "semester" (because I do tend to think in semesters, and in the U.S. they break at somewhat natural parts of the year) is to establish some goals and gather some resources to help me focus my energy. There's no way to neatly break my focus down into "subjects". I guess in a broad sense you could say all my choices go back to self-care. For example, I want to figure out what I believe spiritually, so I'm studying art and astrophysics since I find both of those very spiritually enlightening.
But before I get too ahead of myself, let me list the resources I'm using:
Fencing (through a local adult ed program)
An art class called "Discovering Your Creativity" (same program)
Yoga (at a local studio, when I can afford it)
Hello Cruel World, Kate Bornstein
The Artist's Way, Julia Cameron
Wreck This Journal, Keri Smith
The Gay and Lesbian Self-Esteem Book, Kimeron Hardin
A Short History of Nearly Everything, Bill Bryson
Rise Up Singing (not yet purchased)
A coloring book of designs from cultures around the world
For much of my life I've struggled to pin down what kind of structure I need. I've always known that rigid, school-like structure makes me feel way too constrained and unhappy. I'm a floaty, flighty, right-brained sort of person who jumps quickly from one idea or topic to the next. (School-type people tend to call this ADD, although I'm sure it's the same quality that got me put in "gifted" class as a kid. Go figure.) So it doesn't work well to say, for example, that I'll work on studying physics from 9:00-10:30, because odds are I'm going to work on physics for 5 minutes and then be reminded of something from the I Ching or the French Revolution or Star Trek, and before I know it I have open two books and six tabs of Wikipedia, none of which are about physics.
And that's how it should be! If I'm studying a topic, and it's not engaging my imagination and sparking connections to everything else in the universe, what's the point of studying it?
So strict schedules, while appealing in their predictability, really don't work for me. On the other hand, being totally open-ended doesn't work so well for me either. What ends up happening when I have no plan at all is that I sort of spin in place, having a vague sense that there's stuff I want to do but having no idea where to start. Then I just end up refreshing Facebook a bunch of times, feeling bored and frustrated that I'm not doing what I want to do.
In the past, I've gone through a vicious cycle of doing nothing, getting restless, designing an elaborate schedule, doing it for two days, rebelling and being all "internet FOREVER", then starting the whole cycle over again. (I blame my years in school for teaching me that this is the only way to have structure.)
I think I've finally discovered a happy medium, though. See, what I really need isn't exactly "structure" in the school sense - someone to tell me what to do and when to do it - but focus. I don't need a route already planned for me, but I do need a map so I can decide if I want to go this way or that instead of drifting aimlessly from place to place.
So the way I'm approaching things this "semester" (because I do tend to think in semesters, and in the U.S. they break at somewhat natural parts of the year) is to establish some goals and gather some resources to help me focus my energy. There's no way to neatly break my focus down into "subjects". I guess in a broad sense you could say all my choices go back to self-care. For example, I want to figure out what I believe spiritually, so I'm studying art and astrophysics since I find both of those very spiritually enlightening.
But before I get too ahead of myself, let me list the resources I'm using:
-Classes-
Fencing (through a local adult ed program)
An art class called "Discovering Your Creativity" (same program)
Yoga (at a local studio, when I can afford it)
-Websites & Online Resources-
Life is a Verb, Patti DighSchool of the Seasons - I find focusing on the changing seasons is a great way to add comforting rituals to my life, and I want to learn all I can about how to celebrate them.
Khan Academy - For the "hard" side of physics and the math I'll need to understand it.
Science, Magic & Religion - Humanities lectures from UCLA's open courseware.
By Sun and Candlelight - A school-at-home mom's blog full of ideas for organization and honoring the seasons.
Khan Academy - For the "hard" side of physics and the math I'll need to understand it.
Science, Magic & Religion - Humanities lectures from UCLA's open courseware.
By Sun and Candlelight - A school-at-home mom's blog full of ideas for organization and honoring the seasons.
-Books-
I have all these books on a special shelf, where I also keep my yoga stuff and some of the other resources I'll mention later on. Most of the books have activities or assignments, so they're a bit like "living workbooks". Most are also by "glorious generalists", for those familiar with Grace Llewellyn's use of the term:
Wishcraft, Barbara Sher
The Teenage Liberation Handbook, Grace Llewellyn
The Teenage Liberation Handbook, Grace Llewellyn
Hello Cruel World, Kate Bornstein
The Artist's Way, Julia Cameron
Wreck This Journal, Keri Smith
The Gay and Lesbian Self-Esteem Book, Kimeron Hardin
A Short History of Nearly Everything, Bill Bryson
Rise Up Singing (not yet purchased)
A coloring book of designs from cultures around the world
-Misc./Life Resources-
My job, working with kids
A ukulele (not yet purchased) and a clarinet (needs reeds)
My UU church and a local UU-based co-op
Various notebooks, binders, office & art supplies
A file crate to hold my most important notebooks
Therapy
Daily and weekly self-care worksheets
Herbal tea, incense, hot baths, cats
Guided meditation podcasts
A huge map of the world and a big, colorful, inspiring "Coexist" poster
People
Boston
That sounds like an awful long list of resources for someone who's trying to focus! But there's really a few areas of focus (art, music, physics, spirituality, and the places where they intersect) that tie everything together.
My UU church and a local UU-based co-op
Various notebooks, binders, office & art supplies
A file crate to hold my most important notebooks
Therapy
Daily and weekly self-care worksheets
Herbal tea, incense, hot baths, cats
Guided meditation podcasts
A huge map of the world and a big, colorful, inspiring "Coexist" poster
People
Boston
That sounds like an awful long list of resources for someone who's trying to focus! But there's really a few areas of focus (art, music, physics, spirituality, and the places where they intersect) that tie everything together.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
The Light Comes Back
Tonight is the first night of Chanukah, a celebration of God providing light to his people against all logic. Tomorrow, in the northern hemisphere, is the winter Solstice, the longest night of the year. The solstice is celebrated by many as Yule, a holiday of gratitude for the coming return of the sun. Next week will be Kwanzaa, with its candles (much like those of Chanukah) symbolizing the ongoing life and strength of an oppressed people. And of course, millions of homes are glittering with lights in preparation for Christmas on Sunday.
At this time of year, much is made of the differences between people who celebrate different winter holidays. But I think ultimately, all of these traditions echo the same meanings:
We have faith that light will go on.
In the darkness, we must draw near and share the light and warmth that we have.
We will survive.
Whether you're celebrating faith that a God, a Goddess, nature, or humanity itself that will continue to provide light and life for us through the darkest times, the theme remains the same: Life depends on something larger than ourselves. Life depends on light, warmth, and love. No matter your tradition, this is the time of year to focus on providing those, to ourselves and the people around us. When the sun seems to have gone away, we find light and warmth inside ourselves.
This holiday season, whatever you're celebrating, may you find the light and love you need to thrive. Amen and blessed be.
*Unless you're in the southern hemisphere, in which case you should go barbecue and laugh at the thought of us Yanks shoveling snow.
At this time of year, much is made of the differences between people who celebrate different winter holidays. But I think ultimately, all of these traditions echo the same meanings:
We have faith that light will go on.
In the darkness, we must draw near and share the light and warmth that we have.
We will survive.
Whether you're celebrating faith that a God, a Goddess, nature, or humanity itself that will continue to provide light and life for us through the darkest times, the theme remains the same: Life depends on something larger than ourselves. Life depends on light, warmth, and love. No matter your tradition, this is the time of year to focus on providing those, to ourselves and the people around us. When the sun seems to have gone away, we find light and warmth inside ourselves.
This holiday season, whatever you're celebrating, may you find the light and love you need to thrive. Amen and blessed be.
*Unless you're in the southern hemisphere, in which case you should go barbecue and laugh at the thought of us Yanks shoveling snow.
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