as the sun sets on the shortest day of the year, one has to wonder whether or not it actually really took the time to ascend at all. here in NYC, it's overcast and raining, so the day is further filtered - it's hard to tell whether the light provided is legitimately from the sun or if Law & Order is filming up the block.

as humans, because we rely so heavily on our sense of sight to define our world, we tend to want to 'drive out the darkness'. I think this sensation is derived from the mystery and the scariness of the dark, and our need to have definitive lines helping guide our experience. but I think when we realize this, we remember how the things that scare us or remain unknown serve as great catalysts for change. when we don't know what's going to happen, when we can't see the path laid out in front of us, we're forced to take a leap of faith and see where we land. that thrill, that rush, that exhilaration - that is what makes foraging our way through the dark such a rewarding experience. we have to remember to rely on our own strength, our own light, to take us through the moments when we have no idea what's waiting on the other side.

and let us not forget how much fun we have in the dark. as children, we'd tell ghost stories that would keep us on edge and enhance our other senses so we wouldn't get gobbled up by the monsters. as we grow, passions mature and the sense of excitement builds when expectation meets fulfillment under the cover of darkness. the dark provides us the ability to play in ways where there is no judgment, where anything and everything is possible because we make the choice to light our own path. the dark is comforting and unnerving all at the same time - it leads and follows and envelops and gives us the opportunity to grow because we have to learn to trust ourselves.

there is a road, no simple highway, between the dawn and the dark of night. and if you go, no one may follow. that path is for your steps alone. ~ Robert Hunter