I always like to write about holidays. (A gentle reminder of my book Economics Takes a Holiday!) February began with Imbolc and Groundhog Day, pauses for Superbowl Sunday, then cruises on through Mardi Gras and Ash Wednesday, Valentine’s Day, and Presidents’ Day. Easter and President’s Day are moveable feasts, especially Easter This year Edster falls on April 5th, which moved Mardi Gras and Ash Wednesday back into mid-February. President’s Day always falls between the 15th and the 21st of February, whichever is a Monday. It is also not the ever the birthday of either of the two presidents it was created to honor, Washington and Lincoln.  Fortunately it is not leap year, or the 29^th would be Sadie Hawkins Day. 

 This confluence of holidays calls for exceptionally rapid costume changes of emotional attitude. The Superbowl is just six days after groundhog Day and six days before Valentine’s day, eight days before Presidents’ Day, and nine days before Mardi Gras, followed immediately by Ash Wednesday and Lent. two days before Mardi gras, Valentine’s Day coincided with Ash Wednesday, and before we knew it,  Presidents Day. A quick change of pace from a fast-paced, loud, noisy football game watched by millions to a religious holiday marking a season of repentance and reflection interspersed with a celebration of romantic love and ending on a sharp reminder that we are in a very intense and perhaps even ominous election year. From crocuses to Dust Thou art and to dust you shall return to national politics is a lot for our shortest month.  And if you are Chines, you have a New Year’s Day in the mix!

 Unlike the Christmas holidays, each one of these holidays calls for a different kind of emotional response.  Valentine’s Day is lighthearted and sentimental, hearts and chocolate and cards, the only one that calls for spending money. Presidents’ Day is largely an excuse for a day off with banks and post offices closed and most places, no school. Mardi Gras is the final celebratory fling (the carnival, literally meaning farewell to meat) before Ash Wednesday. This holiday calls observant Christians to the austere penitential six weeks of Lent.  Even those of us whose faith traditions didn’t make a big deal out of Lent often feel compelled to join our high church comrades in giving something up for Lent.   Nothing like a holiday the celebrates self-denial. By March 1^st, (Internatioanal Friendship Day, we will be in for a good rest with no significant holidays till Saint Patrick’s Day and Ostara, the pagan name for the vernal lequinox.

All these holidays have a common element, however, and that element is hope.  Valentine’s Day was originally a Roman holiday. The name of the month, February, refers to the fever of love. The earth is preparing to be fertile and humans are willing to go along with it by celebrating romantic love, even if it is only by watching the latest season of Bridgerton on Netflix. Renewal of plant and animal life as we all start to emerge from winter’s hibernation is a source of hope.  As the weather warms, we can spend more time outdoors—walking, gardening, coffee on the patio. SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) is banished until November. 

Elections sometimes run on hope, sometimes on fear, most often (this year included) on a mixture of the two.  In a polarized nation, both the hopes and the fears are more intense. Theologian Joanna Macy reminds us that hope is useless unless it is active hope, a spur to invest our efforts in seeking out those candidates who best embody our vision of how our state, local, and federal governments should carry out that visionary hope. We can also hope for the future of our planet by engaging in sustainable lifestyles and inquiring of candidates what they propose to do about growth management and air and water pollution and global warming.

Finally, Mardi Gras and Lent are about letting go, turning one’s back on self-indulgence after one last fling and instead making an effort to cultivate the spirit. (In medieval times, it was also a way to stretch the food supply in the final months before spring crops began to come in.) It is long enough to change, short enough to see the light of Easter at the end of the Lenten tunnel. Just a manageable chunk of time to sustain the hope that by Easter, the holiday of renewal and rebirth, we will be reborn as better, wiser, more patient and less greedy and gluttonous than we were six weeks ago.  That’s a tall order, but we have to start somewhere.

AS we zip through these back-to-back holidays, let us celebrate hope.  Especially the hope that we have transformed into the practice of active hopefulness as we work toward bringing our hopes to fruition. In summer, this season of hope is followed by the season of joy, in autumn the season of wisdom, and in winter a season of rest and recovery. May the hopeful and challenging rhythms of the earth resonate in your body, mind, and soul this spring holiday season.