Winters in the World

 

And so I cannot think, for the world,
why my spirit does not grow dark
when I consider all the life of men:
how they suddenly left the hall,
brave young warriors. Just so this earth
every day declines and decays,
and so a man cannot grow wise before he has had
his share of winters in the world.

(The Wanderer)

The year revolves again and again, round and round we come back to the seasons with a year in between another transition, visiting that somehow familiar feeling yet maybe something is different this time around. The years turn and they bring us into wisdom as we live in the world, and therefore live through winters in the world. Seasons help us recognize the differences of our lives - the cycle, the repetition is welcome to our souls. That slow unfolding ability to see our lives. We are able to (hopefully) pay attention to see each turn of the calendar with new eyes in the world which we have lived in for many years. 

The four seasons we are familiar with, but this book brings them all to new light from the perspective of the Anglo-Saxon time - winter, lencten, sumor, haerfest. It has been a delight to read, especiallly as it starts in Winter, and we are in the depths of Winter now. 

Maybe sorrow clings to the heart in this season. Perhaps truth remains elusive.

Time keeps gliding onward in one direction. We can look backward to gain wisdom and look hopeful into the road ahead.

Deeper we go into Winter now. Christmas is just days away. My heart softens and quiets and I pray for  refection time to rest and focus on the gift of Christmas coming. In a season we moderns have made to be so busy and hectic, I find my soul longing for retreat and delight in this darkest season where the light of Christ should become what we see everything else in the world by.

Bless you this Christmas - may it bring you tidings of deep joy. Joy beyond what we could ever ask for.

Christ was born, glory of kings,
at Midwinter, marvellous prince,
eternal Almighty, and on the eighth day
named 'Healer', heaven's guardian.

(The Menologium, an Anglo-Saxon poem about the cycle of the year)