The Cruelty Begins?
Winter begins now, when there's nothing left to look forward to and nothing left to look at. One final blessing on this side of the holiday divide is: At least there's not much daylight for looking.
That's from Darragh Johnson's dirge at the Washington Post this morning about the next three months of cold and nothingness. I enjoyed the Schophenhauer-ness of the article. The writer says January-April is horrible and doesn't try to whitewash it.
But I will take exception. There is plenty to get us through. There are still a few days left in Christmas; give someone a small gift (or did you forget that Christmas is a season, and not just a day?). The NCAA football championship game is tomorrow night, and then there are the NFL playoffs and the coming of basketball March Madness. There are the old stand-bys: TV (American Idol starts January 17th) and increasingly-sophisticated home entertainment (fewer and fewer Americans venture out any more, even when the weather is nice). And there are still things to do outside, not just as many. Communities keep their nature centers open during the Winter; occasional nice days make walks possible; we can sled, skate, and ski.
But the best thing about Winter: time. During these next three months, we'll have a lot more of that commodity that everyone complains is lacking: time. The holiday hustle and bustle is past; the Spring cleaning hustle and the Summer bustle aren't here.
Yet people dread the coming months. It's ironic. We complain about our lack of time, and then when the season that offers the most free time is here, we complain about it.
These months open the door to the highest things, like study, contemplation, and prayer, things that require spades of time to do most effectively. Yet people shrink away. I don't blame them. Yes, time opens a door to the highest things, but it correspondingly opens a door to the lowest things. In the low things, one finds ennui and depression, conditions that make the spirit quail.
Instead of striving for the highest things and risking the lowest things, modern living tells us to strive constantly for the middling things, including an endless array of diversions that keep our minds off our existential plight. It's not horrible advice, but there is a better way. And that better way is buried beneath mounds of activity the other nine months of the year. During these next three months, that better way is closer to the surface.
