Festival of lights

Tonight was the last night of Chanukah (transliterations are so fun- I get to spell it differently each time!) and I was so busy with the baby - then starving and throwing food into my face, that I completely forgot to light the candles. I was folding my 800th load of laundry while watching the real housewives of OC (and actually, they aren't housewives -- most of them have jobs!) and totally enjoying not having anything due for tomorrow, when I realized it was 11 o'clock and no candles.

So, I lit them and watched them burn in the window, the light reflecting in the silver menorah, the whole house quiet and dark except for this beautiful, glowing corner. I was sad at first because Larry is at work and I wanted to be able to share this with someone. It's the only holiday we don't really get together with my family and Larry doesn't know the words to any songs so I never feel like I'm really celebrating it. Either I sing to myself or to the baby, but it lacks warmth -- plus, I'm a terrible singer.

But then, I thought, it's really nice to be alone, just meditate on the calm and the beauty, the contrast of the little lights shining against the dark. Whenever I'm alone, I am always busy, but perhaps it is important to also be alone and not be doing anything more than watching candles burn. No TV, no snacks, no books or chores or schoolwork or projects or internet or phone or even writing - just letting my mind wander, just breathing.

Yoga, which I miss dearly, has taught me the value of letting go and the finger trap mentality of life that always gets me into trouble --- the harder you pull, the more stuck you get. Winter is a time to slow down, to nest, to cuddle, to let go. I'm not sure if that's an official lesson of Hannukka (see!!!), but that's what I got tonight. I know there is an idea of being an empty vessel for God's will. Tonight, I am empty.

Chag Sameach, Hanooocka!