December 17, 2025
Thought of the Day and Question of the Day posts tend to sneak up on me. I sit down thinking I’ll write something light and seasonal, and before I know it, I’m knee-deep in philosophy, parenting, and a mental image of Santa Claus being hauled across the night sky by eight aggressively enthusiastic pot-bellied pigs. This one is no exception.
Today’s Thought of the Day nudges us toward action instead of complaint. Today’s Question of the Day does… something else entirely. Together, they make a surprisingly good pair.
Thought of the Day: It’s better to light a candle than to curse the darkness. (Chinese Proverb)
There are a lot of ways to interpret this proverb, but they all circle the same truth: complaining feels productive, but it rarely is.
Cursing the darkness is easy. It’s loud. It’s oddly satisfying. It gives us the illusion that we’re doing something when, in reality, we’re just narrating the problem. Lighting a candle, on the other hand, is quiet work. It doesn’t fix everything. It doesn’t banish the darkness entirely. It just creates a small pocket of light where there wasn’t one before.
That distinction matters.
I catch myself cursing the darkness all the time. The news. The calendar. The exhaustion. The feeling that there are a thousand things pulling at me and none of them are particularly patient. It’s easy to list what’s broken, what’s unfair, and what’s not working the way I wish it would.
Lighting a candle requires a different posture. It asks a quieter question: What can I do right now?
Not everything. Not the whole system. Not the entire world. Just one thing.
Sometimes that candle is as small as choosing not to snap at someone when I’m tired. Sometimes it’s writing something honest instead of something clever. Sometimes it’s getting up five minutes earlier to sit in silence before the house wakes up and the day comes barreling in like it owns the place.
The frustrating part is that candles don’t come with fireworks. No one applauds you for lighting one. There’s no dramatic before-and-after montage. But the longer I do this, the more I realize that most meaningful change happens this way. Quietly. Incrementally. Almost invisibly.
If you want proof, look around. Most of the good things in your life probably didn’t arrive all at once. They accumulated. One small choice at a time.
If you’re in a season where everything feels dark, overwhelming, or heavier than it should, this proverb isn’t asking you to be cheerful or pretend it’s fine. It’s just asking you to stop yelling at the dark long enough to strike a match.
For more daily reflections like this one, you can browse the full Thought of the Day archive and see how these small ideas stack up over time.
Question of the Day: If Santa couldn’t use reindeer anymore, what should he use instead?
This question started as a joke and immediately became very serious in my house.
I asked my son what Santa should use if reindeer were no longer an option, and without hesitation, he said, “Max.”
Yes. That Max. The poor, undersized, chronically overworked dog who belongs to the Grinch.
No explanation. No qualifiers. Just Max.
There’s something perfect about that answer. It’s loyal. It’s a little absurd. And it suggests that maybe Santa doesn’t need the fastest or strongest solution, just one that shows up.
My own brain went straight to moose and polar bears, which feels practical if you don’t think too hard about aerodynamics or animal labor laws. Moose have the size. Polar bears have the cold-weather credentials. Both would make a strong visual case.
But then my imagination went off the rails.
What if Santa rolled into town pulled by eight pot-bellied pigs?
Not sleek pigs. Not majestic pigs. Just eight round, determined, snack-motivated pigs trotting through the sky with a look that says, “We were promised apples and we expect to be paid.”
There’s something about that image that feels oddly appropriate. Santa has always been a little ridiculous. Flying reindeer already ask us to suspend disbelief. Pigs wouldn’t break the magic, they’d just update it.
That’s the sneaky brilliance of this Question of the Day. On the surface, it’s silly. But underneath it’s asking something real: What do you reach for when the old solution stops working?
Reindeer are tradition. They’re what Santa has always used. If they’re suddenly unavailable, Santa has to adapt. He can’t cancel Christmas. He can’t wait for things to go back to the way they were. He has to look around and say, “Alright. What else have I got?”
That’s a very human problem.
We all have our reindeer. The systems, habits, and assumptions we’ve relied on because they worked once. When they stop working, we’re tempted to curse the darkness. We complain about how things used to be. We romanticize the old setup. We resist change because it feels like loss.
But lighting a candle in that moment might look like choosing pigs.
Or Max.
Or something imperfect, unexpected, and slightly ridiculous that still moves you forward.
If you enjoy questions that start light and end up somewhere deeper than expected, the Question of the Day archive is full of them. Some will make you laugh. Some will make you uncomfortable. A few will do both at the same time.
Lighting Candles in Unexpected Ways
What I love about pairing today’s Thought of the Day and Question of the Day is how well they talk to each other.
Lighting a candle doesn’t always look serious. Sometimes it looks playful. Sometimes it looks like asking a ridiculous question at the dinner table and letting kids answer it with complete sincerity. Sometimes it looks like choosing imagination over frustration.
Darkness doesn’t always need a lecture. Sometimes it needs a little light and a sense of humor.
If this post sparked a thought, a memory, or a strong opinion about Santa’s transportation logistics, I’d love to hear it. Leave a comment and tell me what you think Santa should use instead of reindeer.
And if you want these Thought of the Day and Question of the Day reflections delivered straight to your inbox, you can join the free daily email and start each day with something small to think about and smile at.
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