The sky is gray, temperatures are hovering in the lower 30’s, icy drizzle comes and goes and not a snowflake in sight. This is not the deal I made with Spokane 9 years ago when we moved from the eternally damp bone chilling winters of the Washington coast to the Inland Northwest, the land of sunny skies and snowy white winters. Not this year, and not last year. 

Since the beginning of December I could be found digging out every strand of little white lights collected over years. I’ve dusted off the boxes housing holiday decorations that haven’t seen the light of day for a very long time and now are finding their way into our home. My daughter remarked that our living room was starting to resemble a ski lodge in a Hallmark holiday movie. Fine, I’ll take it.

As one who spends a lot of time outdoors, the constant dampness and gray skies chill me to my bone and threaten to pull a shroud of melancholy over my mood. All my well-lit, sparkly Christmas preparations are an attempt to lift my spirits above the gloom outside … the thing I can do nothing about.

I’m a bit nervous: what if just as I made the major move from the Puget Sound area where I had lived for 35 years (leaving a place that held a significant amount of my adult history) I am late. I fear those snowy white, cold winters I hungered for while on the coast have disappeared. Instead, damp, dismal skies have followed me here. I’m afraid things have changed in my little paradise.

One thing I know for sure and can say with full confidence is that everything, always, will change. I will change, our world will change… the good news and the challenging news.

As much as I’d like to weld certain features, like youthful joints, near perfect memory, non-rising healthy ocean waters, robust bird populations, and vast wild land, the evolving nature of life forbids it. Change, regeneration, dynamic movement is what propels life here on earth and beyond. There’s no stopping it.

Like a chipmunk or a ground squirrel I find myself burrowing into my cocoon of little white lights this December and I suspect it’s more than the weather. Like others around the country fatigued by a ridiculously polarized election, and barraged by daily news headlines spouting fear and dissonance, I am taking a break. 

I am confident conscience will win out in the new year and I’ll once again read the paper and The Week (my personal favorite) to remain informed, but not now. Now I am taking a hiatus from the frantic flyer ads in the mailbox, the political texts, the discouraging headlines, and the daily shopping ads showing up in my email.

I am closing the world out, just for a while, giving myself a break to revive my flagging spirits. Shutting the door on what seems to me to be a lot of insanity threatening to overtake my joy like the gray clouds above. Similarly, I am closing the recently installed gate at the end of the lane into our farm that boasts two signs … “Please leave Packages in Tub,” and “No Soliciting, See Dog for Details.”

Looking to the new year I believe my social contact ‘vacation’ will serve me well. There are big changes ahead both for our country and our world. I suspect we will have some growing pains and can only hope that each and every one of us will take good care of ourselves in order to be an agent of change in the days to come. 

Hang some lights, make some cookies (or, find a good bakery) curl up with a dog under a fuzzy blanket and watch a corny Christmas movie … find just the right gifts, no matter how small, for the people you love and more importantly tell them how much they mean to you … carry meal bars and bottles of water in your car for the homeless you encounter on the street, give a stranger your place in line, whisper a prayer in the woods or your place of worship for good will for ALL humankind and creatures alike … and no matter the social or physical weather, have a Merry Christmas!