Uncertainty breeds fear.
Fear leads to a closed heart.
A closed heart finds ways to reject goodness.
Goodness reminds that day comes after night,
even if that night is the longest of the day.

This is the Winter Solstice. The dark and the light, but mostly the dark. Especially during that time of night—that all-too-predictable time of night—when the mind, coming to rest, suddenly remembers all it had been avoiding all day.

Yet, this avoidance. Key, really, to survival.

So life comes rushing back in. All of it, layered upon itself like so many bed sheets during a snowfall. This is the moment one names “depression.” You and I have it, sometimes more frequently than others, and most often when the sun grows cold.

The hibernating mind

There are casualties in this war of the mind. If you are lucky, the casualties are merely your memories. But more often than not, they are the memories of others, too, because you are undoubtedly someone loved and wanted and missed. Do you believe this? You should.

Because when the darkness comes, instinctively we seek to minimize damage. So we hole up and hibernate until spring like great big lumbering bears. Our body temperature drops and our breathing rate slows down. We are extremely difficult to awaken.

All hibernation is is an adaptation to a shortage of “food.”

The Black Bear is what is known as a “super hibernator.” These bears do not need to wake up to eat, drink or eliminate. Their waste is actually recycled and broken down into nitrogen, which is used to build protein and maintain muscle mass while asleep.

This is at once disgusting and incredibly impressive.

So, wake up

The more I sit with my past struggles with sadness, the more I realize it all stems from uncertainty.

And yet, in those moments, how certain we are that they will never end.

Depression, rather than a state to avoid, is an acknowledgment of the dark in us all. By contrast, the light is so much brighter. But if uncertainty is allowed to rule, then life becomes cloudy and dense, hugging itself like wet snowflakes dampening the sidewalk. Momentarily, a path is obscured. The allure of fresh tracks is strong because we feel as if we are the first to ever walk this snowy trail, and the crunch underfoot is satisfying because we are the only one around to hear it.

And in a way, we’re right. We are the only one in that moment to walk exactly as we are in that space. But remember: An inanimate shovel can do the same thing, if only it is pushed.

There is no “alone” when it comes to the dark. There is only the idea of dark, and whether or not we choose to be certain about it. Then, when we are certain, the beauty of the Winter Solstice reminds us light has come again.

Even Black Bears need to wake up.

Photo: Tavis Ford

It’s rare when someone you’ve known for less than two hours suddenly clarifies a part of your soul you couldn’t quite describe on your own. This happens as infrequently as the full lunar eclipse that you woke up to see, but couldn’t because the city got in your way.

These moments are worth paying attention to. Like the first time you held your new puppy or told your boyfriend you were falling in love with him. Or when you gave away all your secrets and didn’t care who listened.

But this time is different. This time, there are no secrets. They’ve all been discovered by an unknowable known: this new person you’ve just met.

These moments are worth every time someone walked out of your life because they didn’t know how to define you. Or because they had defined you as something you weren’t, and never could be, for them.

But the heart knows this game. It’s been signed up for this gig before, has learned to simultaneously resist and welcome this change of pace: this moment when you realize that you are not alone and never were.

So when someone comes along who can awaken the portion of you that lies dormant—no matter how much you meditate or occupy your yoga mat—this is someone who, by no accident, deserves special attention.

How do you discover such a person?

Be this person for other people.

Photo: Kerekes János Csongor

Some bands record music nine years before it’s released.

Some people spend their entire lives never saying how they truly feel.

Some shoppers only buy things when they’re half off.

Some lovers never get to say goodbye.

Before, never, only, goodbye. These are words for people who live in time.

Now, yes, all, hello. These are words for people who live in the present.

You don’t have to wait nine years for others to celebrate your creation. You don’t have to keep your thoughts inside until they bring you down. You don’t have to wait for the bargain, because the bargain may never come. It is not necessary to physically be with someone in order to say goodbye.

We tell ourselves that we need the right conditions in order to make our move. But it’s not the conditions that stop us.

It’s ourselves.

When baby spiders crawl out of their silken nest, they immediately begin spinning threads of their own to connect themselves to the world. We often forget to tether ourselves in this way. We blame the wind or the nest or the circumstance for keeping us from realizing who we want ourselves to be.

What we forget is who we are already.

What we forget is that same person is our key to who we will become.

Because who you will become is already who you are.

See life this way, and everything will change.