Do you know this hauntingly beautiful song?

In the bleak midwinter
Stormy winds may blow
Earth stood hard as iron
Water like a stone
Snow had fallen snow on snow
Snow on, snow on, snow
In the bleak midwinter
Long, long ago

I was listening to it the other day on Shawn Colvin's
"Holiday Songs & Lullabies," and thought about an
argument I had with my wife this weekend.

It was one of those typical, stupid arguments, I
was criticizing her for being so critical. Hmmm.

Anyway, what I noticed later is how dramatically my
perceptions were changed by my feelings. Feel hurt
and "in the bleak midwinter," I kept thinking all these
critical and judgmental thoughts. I was working hard
to prove myself right (to myself).

This "righteous anger" is a deadly trap. While I was so
focused on being right, I was making her wrong. Bad.
Less. Making myself more, better, righter. I was truly
creating an earth as hard as iron and water like a stone.

In a few minutes I'd polarized us, moved us into two
opposite corners in the boxing-ring-of-my-mind,
establishing a contest of good versus evil. My partner,
my true love, became - for just a moment - the enemy.

In our world today, there are forces at work seeking
to polarize us. To fuel a righteous indignation so we
spin into fear and hate. And in the bleak midwinter,
it's all too easy to blame, to vilify, to make enemies.

So what can we do? In my last message I asked you to
look at the quotation on our "annual report" page
(www.6seconds.org/give/) and consider how we can
each bring forth that peace within. This season provides
a powerful symbol that we can all use to step back from the brink.

In almost all of the world's cultures, this time of year
is marked by a ritual of light. Corresponding with the
turning of the solstice, people for time immemorial
have consecrated the return of light to the world.
The shift, the transformation, from "bleak midwinter"
to "coming spring." In Christianity the spring is
redemption. In Judaism the spring is the miracle
of God's care. In Hinduism the spring is renewal.

Out of darkness, one flame kindles a candle of light.
From the one candle, light is spread through the
community and, ultimately, the world. This spark
represents the deepest mysteries of humanity - love,
spirit, grace, and hope.

Out of darkness, in the flickering light of the candle,
we see the world anew. It's that simple, that sudden.
Almost breathtaking.

And so it was in my argument with Patty. One moment
we were enemies. The next we each remembered love.
With a subtle shift of my attention, I noticed all the
other feelings besides the hurt and anger. With that
small change in my heart, the world began to look different.

It reminds me of that quote by Anais Nin, "We don’t
see things as they are, we see things as we are." When
we focus on hurt and fear and blame, we see a world of
enemies. When we focus on hope, alliance, and love,
we see a world of possibilities.

The stunning power of this shift is that the effects
ripple outward. When you change, you literally change
the world around you. You can represent this with a
simple experiment: Stand in the dark and light one
candle. Someone a mile away will be able to see it.
One second later, that light will have traveled 186,330
miles -- many times around the earth.

As the year turns toward the time of light, I hope you
will find a measure of peace. I hope you will feel that
moment of the sparking light, that transformation from
despair to love. And I hope you will find a renewed
commitment to passing on the flame, so desperately
needed today, co-creating a world of compassion and hope.

With love,
- Josh

Joshua Freedman, Six Seconds EQ Network
www.6seconds.org

(In the Bleak Midwinter is a hymn,
Text: Christina G. Rossetti, 1830-1894;
Music: Gustav Holst, 1874-1934 )