Congratulations. If you are reading this then you are not dead*. I do not write that callously, or flippantly; not being dead is what being alive is all about, and being alive is brilliant even when it’s hard.
Midwinter is a turning point – the longest, darkest night of the year – and there are many traditions, both ancient and modern, which mark this time with feasting, drinking, and generally partying in one form or another. This is because winter is a killer. Winter is death itself. And getting to Midwinter alive means that you have cheated death. That deserves celebrating.
So eat, drink, and be merry. Treat yourself, your friends, and your family. Love and live and stick two fingers up at the pale rider.
Death gets us all in the end but not yet, not today.