We are well and truly snowed in here. The woods are gleaming with a deep winter magic. It feels so wonderfully appropriate for winter solstice, that time when we burrow down deepest into the darkness.

(And? It also means all sorts of logistical conundrums and waylaid plans and lots and lots of wet socks!)

This is life right now, magnificent and rich and overwhelming and a little bit of a mess.

So I have to take my moments of transcendence when they come.

I’m grabbing this moment of solstice with both hands. Closing my eyes. Welcoming the dark. Feeling a light blaze up inside me.

Like you, I’m right in the thick of this glorious maddening sticky prickly life, sweating in my coat in line at the grocery store, glaring down the piles of laundry, stopping this missive to swoon at the sun on the snow, sacrificing precious minutes to walk around outside and let my insides melt a little–

trying to remember that all of it together IS my life.

The moments when I’m utterly entranced by the beauty of the world– how that usually makes me late for everything– the presents I buy and wrap– the karaoke pajama party I’m hosting later tonight for my kids– the news story that I wept at– the food I bought panicked and breathing hard at the grocery store– the words I write in a journal that no one will ever see– all of these are part of it.

I can’t pretend that I do them all gracefully.

Sometimes the light catches me; sometimes I swear at things.

But I’m doing my damnedest.

I bet you are too.

Winter solstice is here. There is magic in the dark: let it cocoon you, hold you, let it bring you new dreams.

Chop wood. Carry water. Swoon at your own stardust.

Go ahead– light up the dark.