Hiking Out: December 2010

The Winter Solstice: Flinging Past the Sun

One of my favorite days of the year is the winter solstice—not for its long hours of dark, but for the turning point it marks as the days grow longer.

My mind turns to June and July and sitting on rocks above a lake watching the sunset, or gathering around a campfire while the sun still lingers above the distant mountains or even rising with the bugle and jumping into the lake, the sun well above the horizon. Today marks the turning point towards those long camp days.

I am so enamored of the winter solstice that I eagerly check the sunrise and sunset times to confirm that the days will indeed be lengthening come tomorrow. This isn’t as straightforward as it sounds. Math is actually required, albeit simple arithmetic. Unless I visit one of the websites that list the length of day down to the second, removing the need for any calculation at all.

The sun actually began setting later on December 15 in Boston, but sunrise also continues to occur later right on until January 6. Curiously I wonder if that has anything to do with the 12 days of Christmas, but I digress. So how is it that we experience a longer day (here in the northern hemisphere) even as sunrise continues to occur later?

Because the earth’s orbit around the sun is an ellipse and the earth is closest to the sun near the winter solstice, the earth is actually traveling faster in its orbit now than in June. So if you feel like you’re flying faster this time of year, well you are, astronomically speaking. During a single day’s revolution, the earth travels a greater distance along its orbit this time of year.

Consider that you are standing on the earth, facing directly toward the sun at point A. The earth rotates through one day and simultaneously moves along its elliptical orbit. Consequently point A after one day isn’t quite facing directly toward the sun. The earth needs to rotate a tiny bit more for A to be facing the sun again. This corresponds to the sun rising just a bit later. And at the other end of the day, the sun is still in view and the earth needs to rotate a tiny bit more before sunset is experienced. This corresponds to the sun setting just a bit later.

Tomorrow sunrise will be a bit later than today, but sunset will be later by a smidgeon more and voila, tomorrow we will have daylight for nearly a second more than today.

Tomorrow I will relish that second. As I feel myself being flung faster past the sun at greater speeds this time of year, I can look forward to slowing down during the long days of summer camp.

Nights 6 and 7—a Few Passes

My blogging for the past two menorah lighting nights mimics our ability to intentionally make occasions to offer kindnesses to others. As we went around the circle both nights, my husband and I each had a few passes. Seven kindnesses isn’t all that many. Yet I am finding it hard to keep kindnesses top of mind so that I see the opportunities to help someone out. I tell myself now that I will work harder on this the 8th and final day to be aware of sharing kindness with those around me. We’ll see if I am able to recount my kindnesses I shared today when we light the candles tonight.

On the 5th Day God Said...

And on the 5th day God said, “Stop delaying and make the brisket and latkes!”

While we have been lighting the menorah each night, we didn’t enjoy our Hanukkah repast until the 5th night, and what a meal it was! Personally, I think I could have related all of my kindness just to preparing the meal. But that seemed more than a little self-centered, so I kept my scope broad if not earth shattering.

I have noticed that not only am I looking for kindnesses (5 is a lot and 6, 7, and 8 will be even more), but I have found myself making an extra effort for the small gestures throughout my day. I have also noticed that my children have really taken this to heart. They are truly reaching out in meaningful ways, and inspiring me to make a bigger difference. As I strive to make a bigger difference, I hope my memory can keep up with the candles!

The Fourth Night: Making the World a Little Bit Brighter

The fourth day I heard, “I didn’t give any kindnesses beyond what I would do anyhow.” “I was at home all day—I didn’t have a chance to share any kindnesses.”

Clearly it was time to revisit the intent of sharing kindnesses given and kindnesses received. I didn’t intend that we would change the world, complete heroic tasks each day or oblige others to be forever indebted. I simply wanted us to be aware of what brings light into our lives and how we reflect that light. I would be delighted if most of our kindnesses shared were true gifts of kindness that we would have given had it been Hanukkah or the middle of July. I liked that with eight days we could create a habit of thankfulness and giving where one may not have existed or reinforce an awareness of the kindnesses in our lives.

Once we all were re-focused on the intent, we were much more comfortable sharing the more commonplace of kindnesses— my daughter helping me clean up, my husband baking a cake for our children, no one complaining when our afternoon plans changed at the last minute. Every day won’t bring a kindness that would turn a friend’s life around, but hopefully each day would make the world a little bit brighter even after the candle had gone out.

The Third Night: It's the Thought that Counts

The excuses started with the morning alarm clock.

“I just want to remind you that I work at home on Fridays, so I won’t have many interactions for sharing something nice,” my husband announced as he stepped out of bed.

“You’ll see your family, “I responded, “we count too".

As it turned out, I was the one who ended up grasping for moments of kindness given. I had plenty of kindnesses received, rushing home late from work, getting a friendly smile and a helpful suggestion from a shop owner, being able to call my husband at the last minute to pick up my daughter, a truck driver letting me cut across to make my exit. But I apparently was in a receiving mode, not a giving mode as I grasped for 3, just 3, kindnesses given— how hard could this be? I looked for drivers who weren’t getting a break in traffic to pull out, shoppers who needed a door opened, I even stopped to pick up fresh scones for my family - all sold out by late in the day!

On that last try, my daughter told me, "It's the thought that counts mom, so that counts as a kindness."

When we stood around the menorah and listened to each others' kindnesses, again seeing the glimpses of gloves shared on a cold day, or thoughtful encouragement to a classmate, I realized we all have moments or days of receiving and moments of giving. It’s not that one is harder to see or acknowledge than the other, at least for me. It is that life is bumpy. Often there are caring words I can share, or a hand I can offer, but sometimes I am the thankful recipient of an extra smile or a driver’s courtesy or a daughter’s hug. The kindnesses of others keep my glass full.

The Second Night: Unintended Benefits

With two candles lit we were able to go around the table fairly quickly and describe the kindnesses we had shared that day. In the process, I discovered an unintended benefit—we each got a peek into the others’ days in ways we hadn’t previously. I hadn't realized how note sharing worked in my daughter's biology class, or that her notes were particularly neat. I also heard the specifics around helping a classmate with a hard problem, and assisting a colleague with a computer issue—each painted a focused picture of a single moment in a hectic day.

Then came the kindnesses received—just one from each of us. They were harder for us to find during our day, and we each had to give it some thought as we watched the candles burning to recall when someone had reached out. I doubt that there are few kindnesses shared. So I continue to ponder why we have a harder time seeing or remembering a kind gesture shown to us than we do one given.

First Night Kindnesses

The first night we each told one kindness given and one kindness received. The only momentary pause was from my husband who said, “Two? I thought we only needed one on the first day.”

To which my younger daughter, always the mathematician, replied, “One kindness received for each Shamash candle lit and one kindness given for each candle the Shamash lights.”

“There’s always only one Shamash,” my husband responded.

“Precisely. Each night we only need to tell one kindness received, but the number of kindness we share with others will increment by one each day.”

“Okay, got it.”

The first day one of us received a book, one a kind word, one a kindness from a teacher, one a kindness from classmates holding opposing views. The first day one of us found two chairs to include two more in the circle, one held her tongue, one spent an extra 30 minutes with a student who just wanted to talk, and one I can’t remember because I was working so hard on not forgetting mine. Today I will work harder on my listening skills! Already we are talking about ‘saving’ a kindness for a day when we need 5 or 6 or 7 or 8. Hmm, that’s missing the point… seems I need to tune the goal.