Celebration and Contrast
Today I found myself wondering how the people of Bali celebrate the winter solstice. The winter solstice has been on my mind since it is only about a week away. For some time now, I have made it a point to always be present for both the sunrise and sunset each day so I have been acutely aware of the shortening of days. The days starting to get longer again, for me, is a profoundly joyous event that is definitely worth celebrating. Being a sun addict freak, I tend to shrink with the shortening of days and expand as the days get longer. For me, the winter solstice marks the time when life begins expanding again and optimism is reborn.
Bali is practically smack dab right on the equator so the length of their days is pretty much the same all year long. For most of my life I have fantasized about living on the equator and not ever having to deal with the shortening of days. Of course, the sad reality is that I would also not be able to deal with the lengthening of days. In Bali the sun never sets at 9:30 in the evening in summer like it does at the latitudes I've frequented throughout my life. I suppose I could have done a Google search to find out how the people of Bali celebrate the winter/summer solstice in December but I really don't care much. I would rather just imagine what it would be like to live under those conditions. I guess if every day of the year is pretty much the same length then there would not be much to celebrate.
As far as the length of day and amount of sunshine goes, what Bali and other locations situated on the equator lack is contrast. Sure, there may be some seasonal contrast such as a dry season and a wet season, but there is almost no contrast in amount of sunshine. So this makes me wonder just how important contrast is in our appreciation of something. While Bali has little to no contrast in sunshine, the North Slope of Alaska has severe contrast. Their year is a little like a day, with six months of almost perpetual sunshine and six months of seemingly endless darkness. The winter and summer solstices there show us contrast taken to an extreme. I suppose I could do a Google search to find out how the Eskimos celebrate their solstices but I'm not inclined to do so. The thought of living at such extreme latitudes scares the bejeebers out of me.
When I find myself thinking about the two extremes I feel reassured. Living in the middle ain't so bad. Contrast can be wonderful in moderation. In art, it is in the contrast and interplay of light and dark that brings colors to life and beauty becomes evident. Life and beauty is what we are here to experience. Contrast helps us to do that.
Bali is practically smack dab right on the equator so the length of their days is pretty much the same all year long. For most of my life I have fantasized about living on the equator and not ever having to deal with the shortening of days. Of course, the sad reality is that I would also not be able to deal with the lengthening of days. In Bali the sun never sets at 9:30 in the evening in summer like it does at the latitudes I've frequented throughout my life. I suppose I could have done a Google search to find out how the people of Bali celebrate the winter/summer solstice in December but I really don't care much. I would rather just imagine what it would be like to live under those conditions. I guess if every day of the year is pretty much the same length then there would not be much to celebrate.
As far as the length of day and amount of sunshine goes, what Bali and other locations situated on the equator lack is contrast. Sure, there may be some seasonal contrast such as a dry season and a wet season, but there is almost no contrast in amount of sunshine. So this makes me wonder just how important contrast is in our appreciation of something. While Bali has little to no contrast in sunshine, the North Slope of Alaska has severe contrast. Their year is a little like a day, with six months of almost perpetual sunshine and six months of seemingly endless darkness. The winter and summer solstices there show us contrast taken to an extreme. I suppose I could do a Google search to find out how the Eskimos celebrate their solstices but I'm not inclined to do so. The thought of living at such extreme latitudes scares the bejeebers out of me.
When I find myself thinking about the two extremes I feel reassured. Living in the middle ain't so bad. Contrast can be wonderful in moderation. In art, it is in the contrast and interplay of light and dark that brings colors to life and beauty becomes evident. Life and beauty is what we are here to experience. Contrast helps us to do that.
We had snow recently on the Great Plains. With so few hours of sunshine, the melting is slow. Yesterday, I found myself out in the country at the top of a rise in land. There are no hills or valleys in this area; there are merely subtle undulations in the land. I found myself at the top of a rise in the land looking out over a lower undulation of land. Surprisingly, I could see for miles. I could see a ribbon of bare trees that marked where the river flowed. Between me and this ribbon of forest were acres upon acres of pasture. It was a small sea of white snow crisscrossed intermittently by very faint lines of fencing. The large seas of white between the fencing were dotted with hay bales lying scattered about the white pastures. With the sun on the verge of setting, the hay bales cast long shadows across the sea of white. I was overcome with the beauty of the scene. If I were a painter I would have set up my easel and started painting. If I had my camera with me I would have taken a picture. Luckily, I was not thusly distracted and so I simply experienced and took in the beauty. I fed off of it. I let it enter my being and imprint both my mind and soul. I allowed the beauty to awaken joy within me.
For me, that was a "solstice moment" even though the solstice is still a week away. It was beauty that illustrated contrast and even though it was at the one end of the spectrum that I just don't enjoy as much as the other end, I surrendered to it and allowed myself to experience the beauty and joy. Beauty and joy can be found throughout the spectrum and it is contrast that can heighten the experience. A "whole" experience cannot be had in summer alone. Is not our experience of summer enhanced by the residue of joy left by our experience of winter? And vice versa? Contrast shows us the unlimited beauty of life. When our celebration of that beauty is also unlimited then our lives can be overflowing with joy.
Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.
For me, that was a "solstice moment" even though the solstice is still a week away. It was beauty that illustrated contrast and even though it was at the one end of the spectrum that I just don't enjoy as much as the other end, I surrendered to it and allowed myself to experience the beauty and joy. Beauty and joy can be found throughout the spectrum and it is contrast that can heighten the experience. A "whole" experience cannot be had in summer alone. Is not our experience of summer enhanced by the residue of joy left by our experience of winter? And vice versa? Contrast shows us the unlimited beauty of life. When our celebration of that beauty is also unlimited then our lives can be overflowing with joy.
Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.
