Monday night was the winter solstice.

Monday morning was rainy, and I left the house without my usual Bag of Things; I shoved my Earthbound Oracle deck in my coat pocket on the way out the door on a whim, but otherwise was traveling unusually light. That evening, as I sat in a coffee shop trying to wake myself up before therapy, I pulled the deck out of my pocket. I pondered the darkness, and how I want so badly to love this time of year, but the lack of sunlight makes it so hard. I thought about endings and beginnings, about change. And as I thought, and as I wrestled with a lot of complex thoughts and feelings I still haven’t totally sorted yet, I shuffled and drew three cards.

Vision, Creativity, and Transformation.

Vision.

I’ve been feeling a bit…stuck lately. But I think the issue is less that I am stuck, and more than I am not moving as quickly as I want to. I have a vision of where I want myself to be in a year, and it’s going to take the better part of the year to get there. There is no way to fast-forward through it.

Creativity.

I started back in songwriting class in November, and have signed up for another class with a new teacher (who I’ve not met but have heard only good things about). I have, as always, about a dozen knitting projects in varying levels of completion around the apartment. This week I’m starting a small but incredibly rewarding freelance project that I’m really excited about.

Transformation.

The journey is never over. Identity is not static. My biggest frustrations come from transformation taking more time than I want it to…but the truth is that it is happening all the time, in a billion tiny ways I may not even recognize. I change my life and my life changes me and it’s messy and brilliant and terrifying all at once.

Vision, Creativity, and Transformation. My life is so full of these things. The visions may not always be the clearest, the creativity may not always be the most focused, and the transformation may not be the most obvious, but they’re all there. And they’ll continue to be there, carrying me through the dark months, reminding me of all the ways in which I am, truly, a very lucky man.