I Just Don't Feel It

Sunlight peeks through the trees

With the Winter Solstice, the light has returned. Or so the calendar tells me. My senses say something different. I cannot feel or see the change. I can only hope, imagine and pretend it is so. I have a knowing, of course, about the return of light. I've lived long enough in the North to trust my years of proof. But now, with not enough to accomplish all I want in one day, I'm feeling deceived. 

Every fall, I look forward to winter. This winter, I say, I'll read more books, wade through more documents to preserve or toss, clean out this closet or that drawer, work on the family tree, learn to... well you get the idea. And then every winter, with the imperceptible decline and then return of light, I find myself unmotivated. Even the usually inspirational creek sluggishly moves toward its destination seemingly without aim or purpose. I might as well be in hibernation. 

"The hardest thing about hibernation is convincing yourself it's time to wake up."