Clarity

In this exceptional weather for a late fall - we already have snow on the ground and temperatures reaching mid-winter standards - my favorite part of winter has an opportunity to shine before its time: the bright sunny days with icy blue skies. In such days the air is crisp and cold, and at night you can see it glitter with microscopic ice crystals floating around under the lamp posts. Daylight has a permanent dusk quality to it, the snow muting the sounds surrounding you. Even though I quite literally can't feel my face in such weather, I'm struck by an amazing sense of clarity that accompanies it. Crystalline sensations in a slow, slow world.Clarity is an ironic theme to choose for this week. The end of the year to me brings with it a mental fog, as if the remains of the energy I have burnt through the year linger, glazing my mind's eyes. We feel tired and overwhelmed, our heads so full. It makes me wonder what happens in these couple of weeks we take to celebrate, or ignore celebrations altogether, when life is paused for everything else to happen afterwards. Nothing needs to or should be done right now, what's the rush? Let the fog dissipate first.I think it's this reflexive moment we take to mark the passage of time - the end of a year, to most of us who follow this solar calendar - that makes this the season of clarity. We are forced to look back and forward, feeling like standing in this line that separates both as we need to prepare our next step. But there's no way to go but forward; that's the principle of time as we perceive it. Yet we feel like we need closure for yet another successful orbit around the sun.My thoughts are foggy. I can't quite focus these days, let alone feel ready to start this year-in-review exercise. But I have a few outstanding points. I am proud of this space right here; I write, you read (if not all of you, I am proud at least I wrote it). It was also a year to reflect on loneliness and individuality, to learn and establish boundaries. If anything, a year to learn how to live the "end of the world" that COVID represented this time last year. We are still adapting and crossing the fog, looking for clarity in the road ahead.That brings me hope. Or suspense, I guess.-Maíra

December 09, 2021

In this exceptional weather for a late fall - we already have snow on the ground and temperatures reaching mid-winter standards - my favorite part of winter has an opportunity to shine before its time: the bright sunny days with icy blue skies. In such days the air is crisp and cold, and at night you can see it glitter with microscopic ice crystals floating around under the lamp posts. Daylight has a permanent dusk quality to it, the snow muting the sounds surrounding you. Even though I quite literally can't feel my face in such weather, I'm struck by an amazing sense of clarity that accompanies it. Crystalline sensations in a slow, slow world.

Clarity is an ironic theme to choose for this week. The end of the year to me brings with it a mental fog, as if the remains of the energy I have burnt through the year linger, glazing my mind's eyes. We feel tired and overwhelmed, our heads so full. It makes me wonder what happens in these couple of weeks we take to celebrate, or ignore celebrations altogether, when life is paused for everything else to happen afterwards. Nothing needs to or should be done right now, what's the rush? Let the fog dissipate first.

I think it's this reflexive moment we take to mark the passage of time - the end of a year, to most of us who follow this solar calendar - that makes this the season of clarity. We are forced to look back and forward, feeling like standing in this line that separates both as we need to prepare our next step. But there's no way to go but forward; that's the principle of time as we perceive it. Yet we feel like we need closure for yet another successful orbit around the sun.

My thoughts are foggy. I can't quite focus these days, let alone feel ready to start this year-in-review exercise. But I have a few outstanding points. I am proud of this space right here; I write, you read (if not all of you, I am proud at least I wrote it). It was also a year to reflect on loneliness and individuality, to learn and establish boundaries. If anything, a year to learn how to live the "end of the world" that COVID represented this time last year. We are still adapting and crossing the fog, looking for clarity in the road ahead.

That brings me hope. Or suspense, I guess.

-Maíra

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