The movie Groundhog Day was, for me, one of the funniest movies ever.  Bill Murray played a down on his luck weather forecaster assigned a reporting job that no one wanted: reporting on whether or not Punxsutawney Phil would see his shadow on Groundhog Day.  In a freak accident,  Murray gets stuck in a time loop in Punxsutawney.  Every day when Murray wakes up, it’s Groundhog Day.  Over and over again. Every day the same as the last.

Kind of like real life.

In the movie, though, through the constant repetition of his days, Murray experiences change and growth – and ultimately freedom and redemption.

By in large, our days are like Murray’s.  One day much like the day before.  And the next. Sometimes grueling, sometimes exhilarating.  But often with a sameness that can be comforting and frustrating and demoralizing – all at the same time. Change – and growth – if perceivable at all, are incremental.

Because of this, it is easy to lose track of time.  A year spins away before we know it. Unless we somehow mark the way, we often fail to see the unfolding of our lives.

I mark change with the seasons of the year.  Today, December 21, is the Winter Solstice.  It is my favorite day of all.

The Winter Solstice has been celebrated by peoples and cultures since neolithic times.  The Christians appropriated it for Christmas.  The Jews celebrate their Festival of Light. For the last six months, the days have grown shorter and shorter in the Northern hemisphere.  After the darkest day and the darkest night of the year, marked by the Winter Solstice,  it is the time when the earth turns again toward the sun.  It is the time when we all begin the journey back toward the light. Slowly, incrementally.  Almost imperceptibly.

Our lives too unfold like this.

Karen Armstrong, perhaps the foremost religious writer of our time, wrote a memoir entitled