Today is the first Sunday of Advent for those of us who celebrate the winter solstice ( use the word "pagan" parenthetically above because I'm a little uncomfortable with it--I wish there was some better way to express it).
Advent means "to wait," as in waiting for the rebirth of the sun at the solstice. This is a time of waiting, of counting down days and weeks, and that is certainly what I'm feeling in my life right now. I'm waiting for my trip to London--I'll arrive on the day of the solstice--and, in some ways, waiting for things to get better. I've been sick for over two weeks now; I'm waiting for that to subside so I can do more than lie around at home. I'm also generally dissatisfied, and goodness knows I'm waiting for that to end.
So tonight my friends and I got together, like we do every Sunday, and had a fire, talked, ate cookies (a good Sunday-before-Advent tradition), and enjoyed being in from the cold and the rain.
Future Advent season activities for me include: watching The Nutcracker featuring Baryshnikov, ice skating in Centennial Olympic Park, and perhaps creating a handmade nativity scene showing the birth of the sun.