Seeking Advent

I've had trouble falling asleep the last several nights. I've been exercising, eating right, going to bed at my usual time, all that jazz. but the minute my head hits the pillow, the worries start circling. And these are not things I can do anything about.

I worry about the weather - it's too warm outside, and global warming is real. I worry about my friend Sharon, who is fighting cancer, about Bob and his memory issues. I switch back to concern for those who face eviction in the next few months and the effects of gerrymandering on political districts. I pray for the children caught in the crossfire of gun rights and adolescent angst. I fret about the next variant of the virus catching someone I love. I mentally relive the parts of the day where I could have done better; chastise myself for falling short yet again of some imagined standard regarding how I should spend my time.

I toss. I turn. I try relaxing the backs of my eyes and my hands and the top of my head and my hip. Eventually, I fall asleep, only to half-wake several times in the night, my dreams a medley of missed connections and elevators that don't have the buttons for the floor I need.

I think part of my problem is that I haven't taken time to heed the message of the Advent wreath this year. Which is too bad, because it's one of my favorite messages; one of the stories I want to hold on to from my years of church-going.

I haven't stopped to light a candle, to breathe. I've noticed the days getting shorter and shorter, and have a good grip on the concept of darkness, but I've been skipping the part where this is the time of year when we stop and wait for the light of the world, who will be born despite the darkness.

It's easy for me, this time of year, to get stuck in a spiral of negativity and doom. But the spiral can't suck me down without my permission, and today, I choose to change my direction.

No, I won't ever be able to return to 'before', whichever 'before' I care to mark time from, but that doesn't mean there isn't good in today. I've just been forgetting to look for it.. 

Hmph. I hate it when my trust issues sneak up on me like that.

Tonight, I will work to change the litany. Before I go to bed, I will pause for a moment before the flame of a candle or three and remind myself that while light can drive away the darkness, darkness cannot extinguish the light. 

I will remember the Peace of the glorious sunset I saw earlier this week. I will recall the Joy I saw on the face of the tot in front of me in line at the post office this afternoon - his dad and I sang the itsy-bitsy spider song to him as he did the finger motions. I will bring to mind the faces of Love in my life.

I will trust the world to turn as it was taught; that winter's solstice will arrive as scheduled.

I will nurture Hope, because I can.