{"id":1003,"date":"2005-11-02T23:21:00","date_gmt":"2005-11-03T05:21:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/lizardek.com\/blog\/index.php\/2005\/11\/02\/better-to-light-one-small-candle\/"},"modified":"2022-07-05T14:48:51","modified_gmt":"2022-07-05T12:48:51","slug":"better-to-light-one-small-candle","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/lizardek.com\/blog\/index.php\/2005\/11\/02\/better-to-light-one-small-candle\/","title":{"rendered":"BETTER TO LIGHT ONE SMALL CANDLE"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>It&#8217;s not exactly light when we leave the house in the mornings now, but it&#8217;s definitely dark when I&#8217;m coming home. After a month of sunny autumn beauty, fall is sliding into winter in real-time. When the skies are clear at night, they look like black, black velvet, diamond-studded and pure, another world high overhead. When they&#8217;re overcast, the darkness is impenetrable; coming down around on all sides, a blanket fort. A grey heron flies across the road, his kink-necked, sword-billed head ridiculously far from his feet. The trees have dropped their summer pants, they look silly and half-dressed. The birches have no shame, they&#8217;re already stripped down and waving their bare arms overhead. The blood beech has turned over a new leaf: from ruby-black-red to a run-of-the-mill orangey-green. You can practically see the chlorophyll slurping back up into the branches, sucked through the straw of winter.<\/p>\n<p>I&#8217;ve discovered over the years that the best way for me to deal with the darkness is to look beyond it. In about 2 months the worst will be over and the light will be increasing again. I can make it. I spend an awful lot of time these days brooding about mortality and inevitable aging, and the dark doesn&#8217;t help. It&#8217;s too conducive to brooding. The problem with looking beyond the darkness is that I&#8217;m unconsciously speeding through the time that I have. Do you see the problem? I tend to do the same thing at work and with my calendar-scheduling at home as well. I&#8217;m always looking ahead to what&#8217;s coming up and forgetting to live in the now. This leads to a lot of &#8220;Good lord, it&#8217;s Christmas again ALREADY??&#8221;-type exclamations. Or maybe time really DOES speed up as you age. Either way, it&#8217;s a good thing I have choir and singing to distract me because it leads me back to myself, and further back too, sometimes.<\/p>\n<p>We&#8217;re singing Christmas songs at choir practice, several in English. Eva keeps asking me to read lyrics aloud so that everyone can hear how to pronounce things correctly. I think about all the different versions of <i>White Christmas<\/i> I have sung in my life, while I&#8217;m adding the newest one to my repetoire. 6 concerts are already planned for the end of November and beginning of December. I&#8217;ve pestered her thoroughly to add my favorite modern Christmas song to the program, and she&#8217;s promised to look at it again, so hopefully we&#8217;ll be singing it next week. I haven&#8217;t sung it with a choir since I was 17. Humming it to myself in the stairwell and belting it out in the car, my eyes are blind to my surroundings; they&#8217;re back in 1982 re-living good times with my extracurricular choir. There, Darkness, take that!<\/p>\n<p><b>Really Great Writing Out There Right Now<\/b>: <a href=\"http:\/\/bluepoppy.omworks.com\/?ty=2005&#038;sid=301\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">It Was Wicked<\/a><\/p>\n<p><b>Cake-filled, Candle-Blowing, Present-Wrapped Birthday Wishes to <a href=\"http:\/\/vember.livejournal.com\/\" class=\"lj-user\">vember<\/a>!<\/b><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>It&#8217;s not exactly light when we leave the house in the mornings now, but it&#8217;s definitely dark when I&#8217;m coming home. After a month of sunny autumn beauty, fall is sliding into winter in real-time. When the skies are clear at night, they look like black, black velvet, diamond-studded and pure, another world high overhead. When they&#8217;re overcast, the darkness is impenetrable; coming down around on all sides, a blanket fort. A grey heron flies across the road, his kink-necked, sword-billed head ridiculously far from his feet. The trees have dropped their summer pants, they look silly and half-dressed. The&#46;&#46;&#46;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[22,23],"class_list":["post-1003","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-general","tag-calendargirl","tag-tralalala"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/lizardek.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1003","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/lizardek.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/lizardek.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lizardek.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lizardek.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1003"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/lizardek.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1003\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5467,"href":"http:\/\/lizardek.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1003\/revisions\/5467"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/lizardek.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1003"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lizardek.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1003"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lizardek.com\/blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1003"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}