One of the many traditions of Christmas season is the stories. We read Christmas stories to our children, we watch Christmas cartoons, there are Christmas episodes of our favorite shows and there are Christmas movies galore. I’m into irreverence so I enjoy Santa Claus Conquers the Martians as well as Scooby Doo Christmas specials of which there are many.
But this tradition isn’t unique to Christmas, it’s something that most cultures partake of at the darkening of the year. When the darkness is longer than the light, when the plants sink down into their roots for the fallow time and the animals grow into their winter coats, it’s time for people to go inward. It’s a time of sorting and sifting, repairing what has been worn or torn during the business of the past three seasons, crafting new things in preparation for the spring, and turning inward to seek the wisdom of our elders and in our stories.
Winter, the time of long nights and short days, is the time for telling the funny things, the sad things, the true things, so that we can all share in their bounty, their impact, and the becoming that comes from weaving our stories together. It’s the time of sharing ourselves and being accepted for who we are even if we’re in an awkward stage. It’s about being part of the continuity of those who are going before us, those who are walking beside us, and those who are following behind. We are the stories we tell. As the Winter Solstice marches closer, what stories will you tell?
