Advent 2023
Words Await
“Even when my world is dark and wintering, when others don’t want what I have or when I don’t want to share, words await. Behind the door. Open it.”
I began my practice of the written & posted Advent calendar last year—2021. The quote above was my closing sentiment on day 24. I went back to look at it because I am having a hard time getting this year’s Advent started—I’m unsure of my theme or how to approach it or what I should use as inspiration. So I decided, rather than trying to start anew, I could dig into what I already gathered.
Makes sense. Winter is the time of year to dip into the stores and inventory—perhaps be surprised and nourished—by what is there. We’ve worked hard throughout the year, squirrelling away the clever insight, the charged moment, the special memory. Now, it is time to source that supply, to go within and experience the abundance we already have.
In the dark quiet of winter, whispers trumpet and our words resound for miles. During Advent, we have time and reason to listen.
Each day this Advent, join me in speaking into that quiet and hearing its responses.
Words await.
December 7: Let go & let god
Total coincidence. But, of course, there is no such thing as a coincidence.
December 6: Giant holes in the ground and what can be found in them
But now, a few days in, I realize digging isn’t a cheat—it is the rule.
December 5: A-bun-dant Clever-ness
…when I write longhand, my pages are justified—margin to margin. Akimbo on the page. I fill the whole line even if what I am writing won’t actually fit where I am writing it.
December 4: Salvaging Christmas
There were risks, it wasn’t cutesy, and it might leave scars. Trifecta.
December 3: WWGD
For the adult gift exchange, we play a round of Dirty Santa (aka White Elephant) that involves unwrapping, stealing, and re-stealing presents until everyone has something and someone has something they like.
December 2: Aurora Borealis McVickerus II
To wit, I am home, yet everything feels slightly unfamiliar, a few seconds or millimeters or ounces out of true.
December 1: this better be worth it
Committing words to the page traps them in time and space, like a tiger in the tarpits, and they can die a slow, dreadful death unless they are said again.