9:03 CST

In my mind the year is something like circle viewed head on, with the winter solstice at the bottom, and summer solstice at the top. But it’s not perfectly round. It’s elongated at the bottom, where the dark, dull winter crawls slowly through the slush, and squeezed thin at the top, where summer’s warm kiss passes entirely too quickly. I don’t think such a shape can exist in Euclidean space, but we know the actual space we live in is bent and curved by everything in it, including ourselves, so surely such a curve is at least possible.

It’s been a rough year, friends. So much loss, so much destruction of things and ideas I held dear. In addition to my own challenges, I let the weight of outside events drag on me. This year’s trip on that circle-ish timepath, especially the downward half, felt rushed, like whatever I was carrying was literally pulling me along that curve. I guess the good news is that the year flew by, though that raises questions about being too glad about the ebbing of the most precious gift any of us gets.

That’s a concern for another moment. Right now: it’s cold this morning, but the sun is bright. Tomorrow is two seconds longer than today. It’s not much, but it’s a start. It adds up. Half a year from today, we’ll have over six more hours of light each day at this latitude.

It always kinda bugs me that they didn’t orient the Julian calendar to match the solar calendar. Maybe that’s why my new year’s resolutions never stick. So I’m going to make those resolutions today—sorry, not gonna share—and try to hold myself accountable to them. At 9:03 CST this morning, the sun will be as far from the north pole as it will be for the next year. The bottom of the bent circle is the turning point, the start of the journey back up to the warmth and light. I’ve got things to accomplish this year, and this year starts right now.

May your journey this year be fruitful, too.