I have never celebrated the Solstice in any sort of formal way. I am a Christian, and that means that my meaning for this time of year is different, and the solstice, while forming the impetus for choosing this time of year to celebrate, is very much subsumed in Christmas.

The first year, the year we buried Gabe, I was content to do so in the dark. Last year, I lived in the middle, and this year, I chose to live for tomorrow, and not yesterday.

Part of that living has meaning in finding the parts of life, the parts of the world that we interact with, that balance, precariously. It has meaning in finding the parts on the edge, the parts where the margins are thin. It is almost possible that pragmatic me is becoming more mystical. (But only almost).

I understand that there are parts of the world where the lines between heaven and earth, death and resurrection, birth and sacrifice are thinner. Yesterday was one of those days.

I had hoped to be more cheerful yesterday, to have, using my new word, more equanimity. I didn't do as well as I had hoped, but on a day that for me at least, marks an end to the year, I am content to leave that in the past.

I am content to focus on time with friends, and egg nog latte and an engaging discussion about a book. I'm content to focus on shopping for Christmas dinner, eating dinner with Mr. Spit, and the joy of curling up under a flannel duvet cover, after a hot bath with bubbles.

I am content to recognize the very purpose of margins, of edges. They divide. This from that, past from present, and yes, bitter from sweet.

To gently whisper, alleluia.