Dan Albergotti's introspective list might also be applicable should you need some things to do in the bleak mid-winter, by the light of the Moon After Yule. I'm thinking that the belly of the whale might be a time as well as a place. So, here you go -- some thoughts to occupy your mind when the yuletide festivities are a fading memory, the nights are long, and the moon is full:
Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale
Measure the walls. Count the ribs. Notch the long days.
Look up for blue sky through the spout. Make small fires
with the broken hulls of fishing boats. Practice smoke signals.
Call old friends, and listen for echoes of distant voices.
Organize your calendar. Dream of the beach. Look each way
for the dim glow of light. Work on your reports. Review
each of your life’s ten million choices. Endure moments
of self-loathing. Find the evidence of those before you.
Destroy it. Try to be very quiet, and listen for the sound
of gears and moving water. Listen for the sound of your heart.
Be thankful that you are here, swallowed with all hope,
where you can rest and wait. Be nostalgic. Think of all
the things you did and could have done. Remember
treading water in the center of the still night sea, your toes
pointing again and again down, down into the black depths.
by Dan Albergotti
from The Boatloads, © BOA Editions, Ltd., 2008.
The Old Moon or The Full Wolf Moon
"Staying Alive" by David Wagoner
"The Journey" by Mary Oliver
as well as parables from Erica Jong and Franz Kafka