fifi’s graffiti

I didn’t “do” Christmas this year. Just couldn’t get in the mood until early this week.  I see the future as a dark glass, in need of a bit of polish to see the light beyond.

Now I’m thinking I’m a Winter Solstice kinda gal so I gleaned a bit of info about winter celebrations from a couple of modern Druid websites . (The Druids had no written scriptures, so I’m not sure how the modern ones come by their tenets.) The Druids call the shortest day of the year Midwinter, Yule, or Mother Night. They call it Alban Arthan in the Welsh/Brythonic tongue, which may be loosely translated as “light of the bear,” and may refer to the constellation  seen in the northern sky, or to the legendary King Arthur, the champion who fought against the invading Saxons. It’s a time of death and rebirth, as the sun appears to die, but the days began to grow imperceptively longer as we head toward spring.

It’s time for a change of attitude, too, as depicted in Dickens’ “Christmas Carol.” I don’t go around spitting out “humbugs,” but who can’t use a fresh outlook on life? This year I’m putting the “X” into Christmas. I’m X-ing out some bad habits. I’m X-ing out a bunch of dust collectors, like paperbacks I’ll never read again. I’m eXtending my daily entertainment of bird-watching by X-ing off a bit of time each day for art, eXercising my brain , and eXorcising some excessive weight.