A Christmas mystery

Our season of Christmas has now come and gone.
The mystery of thirteen that's twelve still belongs
to that which goes with us from year unto year
and the mystery inspires us to true hope and good cheer.

Today is Epiphany, the Day of Manifestation. It is a special day of the Christmas season, in fact a holiday in many places (like Spain where they exchange gifts today). According to the tradition, it was on this day that the Wise Men arrived at Bethlehem bringing their gifts to the baby Jesus. In more general terms, an epiphany is an awakening, a sudden perceptive insight into the true essence of a thing, usually triggered by some mundane, everyday event or situation.

Oddly, if we start counting on Christmas Day, which I've done, today is the 13th day, so why is it still part of Christmas. The connection with the Magi is clear, and which doctrines the Church has derived from this are well known, too. There's a bit of a mystery here, is there not? Since we started with the astronomical facts of the sun's descent into darkness, it is only fair to tell you something astronomical at the end of the season as well.

We're all aware there are twelve months in a year, right? That is twelve solar months. It takes the earth this long to revolve around the sun one time. Marking time by the sun is not a given, however, both the Jews and Moslems base their calendars on the moon, and given that Christianity itself is an outgrowth of Judaism, it seems only fair to include the moon in our thoughts as well. Truth be told, the moon only requires about 29.5 days to revolve around the earth, and that is the duration of a moon month. In other words, twelve solar months is equal to thirteen lunar months. Every year, astronomically, and mythologically, the thirteen becomes twelve.

This number symbolism is reflected in each of the three Western religions: we have the twelve tribes of Israel plus Moses, their leader; we have the twelve apostles plus Jesus; we have the twelve imams plus the Prophet Mohammed; that is, a circle of thirteen. One of the group always departs as well: Moses isn't allowed enter the Holy Land; Judas hangs himself; and one of the imams is hidden. The circle of thirteen manifests in the world as twelve. This same symbolism is reflected at this very special time of year as well.

This is a mere reminder of our own existence as well: we have a bright, external appearance as well as a darker, hidden internal nature. We are all truly part of the cosmos, a part of the world around us. How we function and what is hidden, what we share and what we retain is up to us. What we do and the impact we have resides in us. Since time immemorial we have been given the opportunity to figure out how things are and what part we are to play in the cosmic drama. Another round has passed. Are you better ready for that world?

Twelve drummers drumming

On the twelfth day of Christmas, endless joy does abound
and those we hold dear, we should gather around
to praise and be thankful for the blessing we live
and resolve in our hearts this to others to give.

So, who is ready to make the leap? Who is make the effort to just get back to basics? Though today might be the (almost) last day of Christmas, it still isn't too late.

But perhaps I should ask the real question: who has the courage to make the change? It is easy to sit back and talk about getting together, and it is not the biggest challenge we face to be a bit more open and communicative with our families. It's a nice start, but it's just that: nice, and a start. Yes, it's technically true that even the smallest change is movement toward change, but such small, individual, even familial changes are not all that enduring. Bigger change needs a bigger effort, and bigger efforts require a bigger dose of courage. It's not enough that we decide to change for ourselves, we have to take that change out into the world.

Why is it that most of us are too hesitant to bring this kind of change to the world? Why do we shy away from suggesting, perhaps even insisting on, cooperation instead of the standard, brutal, self-defeating competition? Each one of us needs to answer this question for him or herself, no doubt about it, but I think it has something to do with simply being afraid.

Most of us know the bully, the loudmouth, the cocky, self-convinced "winner", the alpha-types, the … well, you can fill in the blank. And most of us know at least one, if not more, of these types who is simply acting that way to cover over a terrible inferiority complex. In the "game" (where all this competition takes place), it's easy to be someone else: the go-getter, the doer, the mover, the shaker, the one always chasing after the "prize", however we may imagine that prize to be. But the more time you spend looking for other things, the less time you have to find yourself. Anyone, with a little effort, can play a role, what takes much more confidence and self-assurance to be yourself. As they say, you just can't talk the talk, to be you, you have to walk the walk as well.

One of the by-products of this time of year is the opportunity to go within, to take a deep, hard look at ourselves, not in terms of pre-set goals, hopeful ambitions, or personal accomplishments. All of those are changing and fleeting. The only prize worth claiming, in the end, is your True Self, and it was this admonishment that was inscribed across the portal to the Temple of Delphi in Ancient Greece: know thyself. By the way, and just in case you were wondering, you're not going to find yourself by just looking in your head. No, instead, look deep into your Heart. That's where you'll have a much greater chance of succeeding.

Eleven pipers piping

On the eleventh day of Christmas, we yearn even more
for the wonder that's coming, that approaches the door.
We make our hearts ready, and hope we're prepared
for the gifts that the Other again with us shares.

The Christmas season, the time between the years, is a wonderful opportunity that most of us let slip by year after year. It is too easy to get caught up in the hectic, the commercialism, and the celebrating. Let's face it: resisting is practically futile, given that the advertising and marketing assault starts earlier and earlier each year. If there ever was "proof" that we have exchanged our society for an economy, it's Christmas. Of course, it needn't be that way. Oh sure, it takes a good deal of effort, but I'm sure there is not a one of us who has not uttered that plea of desperation: "It just can't go on like this!" at one time or another. But to do that, we are going to have to change and therein lies the rub.

Who wants to change? We think it's great when others do. In fact, we're generally very much in favor of that. One of the points that I've been trying to get across the past two weeks, though, is that we're in this all together, and because we are, each of us has to do our part to make things different. Nothing will ever change if we refuse to change ourselves. And, we can never change ourselves until we change the way we think.

In the English-speaking world, we learn that John the Baptist, the precursor to the one whose birth is the center of the celebrations this time of year, admonished us to repent. What most folks don't know is that in the original Greek text, that's not the word that he used. No, good ol' John was crying metanoeite which means more "change your mind", "change the way you think". Now, as then, we are being called upon to re-evaluate just how it is we are looking at the world around us. We are being asked to re-examine whether what we think is the best we can do. We are being challenged to not just take care of business as usual. No, if we change the way we think, we actually change the world.

I know you have all heard all of this before. I never claimed to be saying anything new. My job, as I understand it, is simply to remind us of what it is we already know and what we may have forgotten in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. And it's because of that turmoil that we should really make the effort, at least once during the year, to stop, look, and listen to what is going on around us, to slow down long enough to engage someone else, to talk, to be together, to reflect, to reconsider, and maybe even re-think a few things. This is what the turn of the year, the end-of-year celebration, should be about.

Ten lords-a-leaping

On the tenth day of Christmas, our thoughts look ahead
toward the end of the season, and what has been said
about goings and comings and why there's a time
in each mundane year that may still be sublime.

If it is so obvious that "we" is more important than "me", and if it is so apparent that no one really gets to where they are (positively or negatively) without lots and lots of help from others, and if it is clear that the very notion of a self-made person is fundamentally flawed, why do we insist upon believing it? These are very strong, very pervasive and very persistent fictions, but we as a society, that is, we in the West, particularly America, have absolutely not problem accepting them not only as "true", but as givens, as if this is how the world actually works. Don't you find that strange? I do.

On Facebook and in my browsings elsewhere, I see a lot of ranting and raving about how silly it is to believe in things that are patently not true (like Santa Claus) or that have been "utterly refuted" (whatever that means, like the myth of Jesus or religion). Could it be that we have simply exchanged on "religion" for another? What I have also noticed is that there are widespread, impassioned pleas for rationality, as if this were a value in itself. How many of us have stopped to ask what "rational" really is?

The word derives from the Latin ratio, which has something to do with procedures, systems and ordering, but fundamentally it is a manner of separating, of dividing one thing from another. We see this in our English word "ratio" which expresses a proportion (e.g. ¼, that is one part of four). While dividing, sifting and sorting are extremely helpful skills, they are not the only ones that we should develop. We need to be even more adept at putting things together, of synthesizing, generating, and creating as well. If we extoll the dividing side, the ratio, we neglect the producing side. We become – pretty much as we are in general – unbalanced.

No, what I would make a plea for is creative-reasonable thought, or reasonably creative thought. Rational thought is not the epitome of thought, it is simply one of many kinds of thought. Over the course of human history, we have had other dominant types of thinking, to be sure. Rational thought is merely the last in a long line of them, and not necessarily the most advantagous generally speaking. You see, at times, it may be worth our while to even think about thinking itself.

That's another reason why this time of year is not only special but important. It is a time for us to exercise our minds in other ways, in positive, other-oriented, creative, and even magical and mythical ways. All of these kinds of thinking are part of who we are as human beings, and it seems such a waste to devote our time and energy to such a limited part of who we can be. But, you have to be open to it … to the possibilities these kinds of thoughts can bring and to the Spirit of the Season which is just another way of saying the same thing.

Nine ladies dancing

On the ninth day of Christmas, it's time to begin
reflecting on what gifts the new year may bring
but reflection is one thing, another to care
what gifts that we have and with others will share.

What I hope has been becoming clearer over the past week or so is that what is important to us was important to our forebears, that what is essential for us has not changed all that much over the years, that the intangible, feeling-based parts of life are just as existentially significant now as they have ever been. What has changed over the course of human development has not been so much our needs, wants and desires, but rather how we express them and how we think about them.

Though people have generally always been people, how we see and understand the world around us has changed. The early stories surrounding this time year were clothed in stories of light and warmth, in myths of sun-related, larger-than-life figures, but most of that has faded into the commercialist background of Santa Claus and economic stimulation. The meaning that those stories was held has become pale through lack of use. In other words, as the expression of what lies beneath and behind the stories has changed, we have changed the content itself. We moderns feel we have outgrown the childish stories of the path, but all that has happened is that we have cut ourselves off from our roots and prevented that we ever really grow up.

This time of year was established to remind us of how much we need one another to survive. And that hasn't changed over the almost two million years of proto-human and human history. There is no lone wolf, for wolves are pack animals. There is no individual apart from the group of which s/he is a part. We don't succeed on our own – though we have to do our part, no argument there – but rather through the help and support of others. These are human universals and it is time that we started admitting that trying to eliminate this part of our nature is not making us more human, rather it de-humanizes us.

We are confronted with a number of existentially serious issues: the climate/environment, the destabilizing of the eco-sphere; the exhaustion of resources, the overproduction of waste; the divide between the have's and have-not's, the dangerous inequality between rich and poor; the proliferation of violence on all levels (not just war, but crime rates, child abuse, mental disturbances, brainwashing, and more); the spread of disease and inhuman living conditions (it should matter if anyone starves to death on this planet). These affect us all, regardless of their causes, regardless of how they came to be issues. They are all issues in which we, human beings, have had a hand in creating. And it is for that very reason that it is up to us to do something about them. Yes, US, not the people across the street, or some foreigners in some faraway place, us. You, me, everybody you know, everybody I know, and everybody that they all know and beyond. Once again, it becomes clear: "we" is more important than "me".

Eight maids-a-milking

On the eighth day of Christmas, the year becomes new.
We wonder, resolve what we're going to do
in the time that's before us, how little we know
that the fire now within us will be barely a glow.

Happy New Year! The Eighth Day of Christmas is a new beginning. The new year has begun. Oh, how we love new beginnings, a fresh start, another chance ... . And we should. It's never too late. Old dogs, new tricks, it doesn't matter. You're never too old to learn, to grow, to change, to start over.

It comes at an odd place, though, two-thirds of the way through the season. We humans like symmetry, so why not have the new year start in the middle? Why is it off-center? Given that the solstices (beginning of winter and summer; shortest and longest days of the year) and equinoxes (beginning of spring and fall; equally long days and nights) all occur about two-thirds of the way through their respective months perhaps it is just fitting that the change of year be placed there as well. Or could it be that the last in the long line of figures whose birth is honored at this time of year, Jesus, is of Jewish descent and consequently would have been circumcised on this day? Oh, I know thoughts like that make some people uncomfortable, but this day would be, as it is for us today, a day of celebration. That's all I'm saying.

OK, it's not all I'm saying. My intent throughout these past few days has been to get you thinking differently about something as everyday as Christmas. Let's face it, Christmas is a pretty secular holiday and the ideas of having and money abound around this time of year. It wasn't the original intent of the holiday, as we have seen, and it could do us just a little good to stop and reflect on the state of things, perhaps because it would be worth shifting our attention just a little. As it is, we're on autopilot most of the time. We are so full of ourselves and our own cultural and social norms that we fail to recognize that others can and do see the world quite differently from us. Sure, we know that Asia starts their year at a different time and that certain religions have selected other days for their new year, but ours is the one that starts now and it is this one we would be best served to devote our attention to.

What all cultures have in common though, and what is probably the human element of it all is that new years mean new chances. We can't and shouldn't just drag all our shame, guilt and misdeeds with us forever. We should have the opportunity to be just a little sorry for our behavior and maybe, just maybe, to ask those we've offended for some heartfelt forgiveness. If we did, the new year would truly be new. It's not so much that we should add an additional burden on ourselves, say, in the form of some new year's resolution we know we won't keep, but rather, we should maybe just try being a little more thoughtful, a little more considerate of others, and a little kinder to those who share the world with us. You'd be surprised how much of a difference it can make.

Seven swans-a-swimming

On the seventh day of Christmas, we should take a rest
from struggling and striving, remember we're blessed,
for blessings enrich us when handled with care
and with those who don't have them always be shared.

I shiver at the thought, not because of the weather. The winters in these parts are getting milder, but the cold, hard cash that drives too much of our thinking these days is more than enough reason to seek more warmth. But where can we find it?

It's hard to talk about money without talking about success. For too many people, the measure of success is a person's net value, and when it's about money, it soon ends up being about "me". Like spoiled children, we hear the cries of "Mine! That's mine! You can't have it. No, mine!" Spoiled children are sad enough. Spoiled adults are even worse.

We also like to think, and we're told often enough, that what we have are the rewards of our own efforts. I didn't realize that inheritance was such hard work, but I don't know everything, yet most of the super-rich these days didn't earn their fortunes themselves. There are folks who did "earn" theirs, say Bill Gates or Warren Buffet, but does anyone think that Bill Gates worked harder than they did, especially those aspiring to get into the rich club? I doubt it, and so there is an apparent discrepancy between working hard and getting ahead. What about luck? What about being at the right place at the right time? These aren't things you can plan for and they have a strong influence on the difference between success and failure. But, worst of all, we are led to believe that they did it all on their own. And this is one of the biggest untruths in the history of propaganda.

You don't have to believe me. Try Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers for a behind-the-scenes look at what is really happening: being in the right place at the right time is more important than anything, and practice is more important than talent. These individuals then tend to get more than their share of support from everyone else, making success more of a collective than solitary effort. This is borne out in biology and evolution. David Sloan Wilson argues quite convincingly in his 3 August 2011, New Scientist article on selfless evolution that cooperation, not competition, is the strategic, that is, long-term evolutionary mechanism. Humans survive best and longest if they cooperate. Competition is destructive, and this is certainly the effects that we are seeing from the latest economic catastrophe.

Put more succinctly, "we" is much more important than "me", at least when thought about in the long-run. Nature knows this, but we seem to have forgotten. Our forebears, though, were also forced by nature to come together, to huddle together in search of warmth and hope for the year to come. It was a part of their experience. We haven't outgrown the experience nor have we found a worthy substitute for it, but the Twelve Days of Christmas give us the chance to regain that experience once more.

Six geese-a-laying

On the sixth day of Christmas, we should stop and reflect
on those who get lost or ignored through neglect
by well-meaning people, like you and like me
but they're there nonetheless, if we choose but to see.

If you've taken the time to give yesterday's question any serious thought, you will most likely have noticed something. It's hard to find a "why" in what you have or want to have ... more often than not we start thinking about what we want to be. This is a existentially fundamental distinction and it makes all the difference in the world. Erich Fromm, the émigré German psychoanalyst, wrote a book in 1942 which should be on everyone's reading list: To Have or To Be. It's not an academic volume of technobabble and overweening erudition, rather it is a simply written, human book that asks you to ask yourself the meaning question, too.

The question whether to have or to be has taken on renewed significance this year in particular as we have seen one country after another fall into extreme financial difficulties, as we witness the epidemic level of foreclosures being exercised by banks, as we struggle to escape the largest economic crisis in our lifetimes and which may be even worse – at least in certain regards – as the one that led to the Great Depression. Let's face it: we're not in very good shape and promising solutions are as good as nowhere to be found.

The result? A air of barbarism, I would say, and I don't think I'm exaggerating. If you want to know what someone thinks, just listen to their choice of words. It will tell you everything you need to know? Has it occurred to anyone besides me that the tenor of public dialogue has become harsher, crueler, more cynical, brash, aggressive and violent. Oh sure, we all know the effects of a good pepper-spraying or clubbing, but what about a well-executed tongue-lashing? You can wash the pepper spray out of your eyes and the cut on your head will heal, but the psychological wounds that are inflicted with words are some of the hardest to heal, and some never, ever heal properly.

Let's be honest, our entire public dialogue, be it in the public square or the presidential debates, is about one subject and one subject only: money. We only ever talk about money. The schools are collapsing because they have no money, and most people don't have money to send their children to other schools. Public services don't function without money and so the fire department watches a house burn down in Kentucky because the owner hadn't paid the subscription fee. Americans don't want to pay taxes because they don't know how the money is spent ... well, maybe building bridges to nowhere but certainly not fixing the ones that are in need of repair. If you step back and listen, I would be willing to bet that within the first 30 seconds of any conversation, debate or argument about any public issue, the money argument will arise: how are we going to pay for it ... or even better, who is going to pay for it.

Unfortunately, it is all only about the money anymore.

Five gold rings

On the fifth day of Christmas, the time just got away.
Instead of deep reflection it was dash and rush and pay.
But, with a bit of effort and help from all around
we made it back quite safely where peace and love abound.

Let's pick up on the theme we started on the Third Day of Christmas, meaning? The question we asked then is an important one, much more important than we like to think: what gives meaning to our lives? This is not a trivial question, regardless of how simply it is phrased. The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900) wrote once that knowing why one lived allowed on to endure almost any how. This rather simply stated insight led the Austrian psychiatrist and psychoanalyst Viktor Frankl (1905-1997), a survivor of the Nazi death camps, to use this as the basis for his highly successful logotherapy.

Meaning matters. What Nietzsche intuited, Frankl experience, and this under the extremist of circumstances. Meaning made the difference in untold number of instances between life and death, and while it may not be as existentially stark now as it was in Frankl's life, the rules of the life game haven't changed that much. So, the question that springs to my mind is how many of us have actually sat down and thought seriously about what gives meaning to our lives. If you never had, it's long overdue. If you have, is it the same as it once was? And keeping in tune with the Spirit of the Season, it is precisely this time of year ... the time between the years as it is ... that we should find a few quiet moments to reflect on just that. What gives meaning to our lives?

This isn't about New Year's resolutions that we never keep. Why should we? We make them because we think they'll help us become a better or healthier or happier person, but do we really know that that means? Of course we don't keep them because they are little more than add-on rules that simply get in the way, another set of obligations that are imposed upon much like the perceived unreasonable demands we get from our bosses or spouses or children or ... . Yes, I believe that most of us are so wrapped up in the details of our lives that we are not as clear on what is meaningful in our lives as we should be.

Meaning's a big deal. It's the answer to the "why" question. And "why" is always a big deal. So, do we work to live or do we live to work? Do we live for our children or merely through them? Do we live for the things that we have and own? Do we live for what we learn? It should be clear that I'm not asking why we get up and go to work everyday (or not, if we don't have a job), I'm asking if you know why you are even alive to begin with? It's a much more serious question.

The answer to that question is the gold – not brass – ring on the carousel of life.

Four colly birds

On the fourth day of Christmas, we should take the time
to think of those others whose lives aren't as fine
as ours, in their fullness, their richness and glee,
for much suffering results from unintentional greed.

Before pursuing the thread of meaning which was introduced yesterday, I'd like to stop for a moment and reflect upon the relationship between light and spirituality that was mentioned as well. For as long as I can remember, and I'm pretty sure for as long as anyone can remember, there has been an intimate connection between Light and Spirit, between Light and whatever it is we conceive a God-like entity to be. Prior to monotheism, the sun literally played the light role. Within the monotheistic traditions, God was associated with light. What is more, even in the non-theistic religions, such as Buddhism, candles and light play no insignificant role. Why might that be?

Regardless of any other associations we may be carrying around in our heads, anyone who has ever taken a closer look at light itself cannot help but be amazed. OK, a bit of stretch. We can't see light. If you look into a container full of only light, all you will see is darkness. What we see, literally, are those objects from which light is being reflected. We don't see light, we can only perceive its reflection. And for those of you that are now having thoughts of mirrors forming in your heads ... yes, we have to ask ourselves perhaps which side of the looking glass we're on.

Seriously, however, light may be the most fascinating thing in our universe. Nothing can accelerate faster (for you neutrino buffs ... Einstein only spoke of acceleration, not velocity), but even more amazing, it is the one thing that can apparently be two things at once. When speaking of light, we most often hear words like "ray" or "wave", for light does in fact behave like a wave, under certain circumstances. Strangely enough, though, light can also be found in particle form, as photons, as they are called. In other words, sometimes light is a wave, sometimes a particle. When is it one, and when is it the other? The answer, as is so often the case in life, is "it depends".

The situation plays a big part in it, of course, but at the "moment of truth", it appears that the light "knows" what it needs to be and expresses itself appropriately. As strange as that may sound, there is a strong case to be made for light "making the decision" itself. Expressed in simplest terms, light apparently shares certain properties of consciousness. I certainly don't expect you to take my word for it. A well-argued and well-documented presentation can be found in Arthur Young's Reflexive Universe. (For those of you who don't know of him, Young is the person who figured out how to make helicopters fly.) Could it be that light itself is the link between the physical and metaphysical? It's hard to say, but it certainly gives us something to think about at this reflective time of year.

Three French hens

The third day of Christmas takes on a new air.
We're tempted to work but we must be aware
that this is the season to look deep inside
for hope and for peace in which we may abide.

The modern individual "knows" that myth is a dirty word. We use the word to describe anything, particularly statements and stories that we believe to be unabashedly made up, pure fictions. One of the goals of 19th century science was to demythologize everything, and we have to admit that if they have got us to use the term "myth" as a derogatory term, they did a pretty good job.

Nevertheless, we have seen over the past week that there is more to myth than just silly made up stories. The whole reason for having Christmas now, the reason that there has been some kind of celebration at this time of year for almost as long as their have been humans in northern climes is that something occurs that can only happen now. The sun "dies" and is "reborn" and through its "sacrifice" the rest of us can live. Overstated? Well, yes and no.

On the one hand, we have a very nice metaphorical description of what is happening cosmologically. (And for those of you interested in just how widespread this kind of mythological description of reality may be, I would suggest Santillana & Dechend's Hamlet's Mill.) Scientists and non-scientists, materialists and non-materialists alike agree that the days get shorter until 21 December, and afterward they start getting longer again (until they reach their longest point around 21 June and then they start getting shorter again). This is the yearly cycle and this cycle is such an intimate part of our lives that we give it absolutely no thought at all. What is more, because we never think about it, we don't really care about it. And, as we all know, what we don't care about, doesn't matter, and what doesn't matter is meaningless. In other words, what was once a central (or at least more prominent) part of our lives has become meaningless, have our lives in general become more meaningless?

This brings us to a very important question: what gives meaning to our lives? I know it is one we don’t think about very often, but that was also something that contributed to this special time of year. The sun is at its weakest, and we were, traditionally at least, weaker as well and in the, literally, least physical time of year. The long, cold, dark nights of winter were an excellent opportunity to reflect. The festival of light was an opportunity to strengthen ourselves innerly for the challenges which were soon coming again "out there" in the world. In other words, for a variety of reasons, physical, cosmological, and mythical, this was a spiritual (or at least, metaphysical) time of year. To paraphrase the late, great John Lennon, all we are saying, is give myth a chance.

Two turtle doves

The second day of Christmas falls
here without stores and without malls.
Just family, friends, those we hold dear
especially close this time of year.

Today is a holiday in Europe, a real holiday, with closed stores and festive programs. It's called Boxing Day in the UK, but if you're interesting in why, you can either ask a Brit or just google it. I would prefer to pick up where I left off yesterday, and the day numbered two seems to be a good place to start. After all, we were talking about two theories weren't we?

Science is a fascinating way of looking at the world. It uncovers bizarre creatures at the bottom of the oceans, identifies viruses and bacteria that are harmful, it has provided us with great boons, like penicillin, and great banes, like nuclear energy (just think of the waste). But, we should keep in mind it is only one way of looking at the world. It does well with facts, but there is more to the world than facts.

What about art? That is also a valid way of seeing the world around us. The realism of a Rembrandt, the irrealism of a Picasso or Dali, the emotion of a sculpture by Michelangelo are all valid expressions of feelings, of something deeper within us that can be moved (either positively or negatively). Art can be enraging or inspiring or any range of feelings in-between. Aren't feelings a legitimate part of our make-up as human beings? I think they are.

And what about things that we simply have difficulty dealing with, such as psychic phenomena like telepathy or remote viewing, or even the existence of God? Science is not in a position to make a statement because it is beyond the realm of the five senses to which they have restricted itself. Art cannot address it because these phenomena have something almost physical and something non-physical about them, something that goes beyond feelings themselves.

In other words, the simple dichotomy we have made for ourselves – it's real or it's not – is not really adequate to the task. We have to allow ourselves to explore other realms with other methods if we are to truly understand who we are, why we are here, and what we should be doing with ourselves.

Our forebears, among other things, attempted to encapsulate this "more" of which I am speaking in their own expression of knowledge, in myths. We should be grateful to them for what they have bequeathed to us, even if we don't understand it anymore. We need to give myth (and metaphysics) another, a fair, chance. Who knows, maybe all of us will be the better for it. It presupposes, however, that we talk with one another, not just to – or worse, at – one another.

A partridge in a pear tree

Best wishes for all at this time of year,
days of peace and full of cheer.
Some simple hope, a kindly smile
can make dark days the more worthwhile.

For those of you who are celebrating: Merry Christmas. Today is not only Christmas Day, it is the first day of Christmas as well.

Why today? If you recall from the time-before-last on the 21st, the sun reaches its lowest point (nadir) in the Ecliptic on it's yearly journey (from a geocentric perspective, of course). It will be recalled that it stays there for three days. In other words, on the third day (that is, the 24th) it starts its ascent, it is, if you'll excuse the metaphor, "born again" for the coming year. Births are beginnings, so it seems fitting that the festival of renewed light and life begin now.

Regardless of our reasoning, though, we would all agree that without the sun, there is no life on earth. Granted, there's a finely tuned relationship involved, but it is easy to understand why the sun has been celebrated as the Giver of Life through the ages. Yet there is another paradox involved. At this time, the Earth and Sun are closer to each other than at any other time during the year, but still, in the Northern Hemisphere, it is as cold as gets. This is because the earth's axis is titled about 23 deg. from upright, so at this time, the sun's rays only obliquely hit the Northern Hemisphere. In other words, the effect of the sun is qualitatively different – it's the weakest – than, say, at Midsummer when its effects are the strongest.

It is here that I start to feel a bit sorry for the materialists amongst us. Differences are differences, be they material or otherwise, but they only have one kind. Given that 75% of the mass of the universe is unaccounted for, even our strongly scientific friends indicate that there is apparently more to cosmological phenomena than meets the eye. Until the rise of empiricism and its blitzkrieg on our thinking, really around the time of the Enlightenment, we had another option. We had a physical realm, but we also had a metaphysical one as well. As we know, the latter was given a pretty bad rap and relegated to untouchable status, but it hasn't gone away. We should note that it the existence of the metaphysical was not disproven, it was simply argued away. That is, if you accept the materialist argumentation, there is no metaphysical, but you don't agree, to them, you are simply displaying intellectual weakness.

Let's face it though, it's not intellectual weakness at all. One theory says there is nothing more than the physical. Another theory says there is more, at least the physical and metaphysical. I would expect there would be a discussion and debate amongst the theorists, but what I mostly see is ignorance: one side simply ignoring the other. I believe we can do better than that.

Hope in the darkness

The experience of dark and cold can call forth feeling of despair. Food was in short supply, perhaps one family or group didn't have enough to make it through these times. But those who had more, could and did share, for it was understood that life could be better if more, not fewer, survived. Fire brought warmth, but so did the huddling together around the fire, and so did the sharing. At worst, you knew you were not alone. At best, you had hope for the future.

These, too, are feelings we share even today. They express themselves perhaps in different ways, but the feelings are the same. Our forebears weren't children, they weren't child-like in their innocence and at bliss in their ignorance. It is hard to believe that there were Einsteins among the cavemen. Someone figured out how to handle and manage fire. Someone thought the wheel could be a good idea. Yet, these days I often sense just a trace of arrogance, of (unwarranted) superiority because the least among us know more than those folks could ever have dreamed of. Aren't we just grand? But are we? We may know how to download apps to our smart phone, but do we know how to share with and care for each other? We may have indoor plumbing and the latest microwave, but raise another person's spirits enough that they survive until spring? I'm not so sure.

While we moderns may think we prefer snazzy formulas and differential equations to encode our knowledge, for millennia this was done in stories, poems, and songs. The myths of the Ancients, whether we like it or not, encapsulated an extent and degree of knowledge – of nature, the universe, the movements of the planets, the cycle of the seasons, when to plant, when to harvest, when to celebrate, and how to hope. This was a knowledge meticulously collected, constructed and preserved because of it survival value. We like to think today that we don't need any of this any more, but a quick look around by a half-observant eye tells you that much of what we see is tenuous, fragile, hollow, insubstantial, and downright disgusting. Don't get me wrong, just as there were cavemen Einsteins, there were cavemen jerks and thieves and exploiters. What they bequeathed to us, however, was not the worst of themselves, but their best, that is, their myths. Why, because they are such cute stories. I doubt it. Rather perhaps that we might learn sooner what they simply learned too late: cooperation with each other and with the world around us is a sustainable strategy; competition only ever gets you short-term gains. It is simply too selfish for its own good.

Over the next couple of weeks, then, I'd like to revisit one of these mythical constructs to see if there is not something therein that we can cull out for today … and, it has more to do with each of us than it does with anything else.

The longest night

This is a special time of year … not because some are waging war on Christmas, not because some are once again trying to debunk the holiday with pagan myths, and certainly not because it's the biggest shopping season of the year. This time of year is special in a very fundamental way, and it might be worthwhile to reflect on why.

It's not a coincidence that all of those pagan holidays, as well as Christmas and Hannukah all occur right now, for in one way or another they share something very special in common, namely Light. For those of us living in the Northern Hemisphere, the Winter Solstice marks the shortest day, and the longest night of the year. It is the time when the Sun – as seen from the Earth – halts over the Tropic of Capricorn (23 deg. S 26 min. longitude) for three days at the end of its journey to the South. After the solstice, it will appear to travel north again, the days will get longer and the nights shorter until it reaches its apogee on June 21 (the longest day and shortest night of the year). For those of you who are keeping track and like to be exact, the solstice will occur today at 16:19 GMT (or 10:19 am for you in NYC, and 7:19 am for our California friends).

Yes, it's dark in northern climes at this time of year. For where I live near Stuttgart, Germany, the sun rose today at 8:13 am (local time) and set at 4:27 in the afternoon. That's not much chance for much light at all, and we have it good. My friend in Bergen, Norway won't experience the sunrise until 9:44 am (local time) and it will have gone down by 3:28 pm. Blink, and you might miss it.

These, of course, are merely the facts, the pure, astronomical, verifiable facts. It is simply darker for a lot longer that it is light at this time of year. What we all experience, though, is the stillness, perhaps the sadness, the wish to maybe withdraw and to reflect throughout those long, dark hours. We feel it today, if we allow ourselves to. And our parents, grandparents, and their parents and grandparents, and theirs and ever on, further back, felt it as well. The phenomenon is the same, to be sure. How we choose to deal with it is quite different than it once was.

This is not to say that how we deal with it is better. Nor am I implying that how it used to be dealt with should be our way. Then was then and now is now, but we should be aware that our experience today is the experience our forebears had so many, many years ago. It is what binds us together over time. It is something that we share, and sharing is (or should be) a big part of this time of year.