I’m just not into all the noise around Christmas, which starts in October and reaches sonic boom proportions by mid-December. Besides the unpleasant feeling of perhaps being judged as a Scrooge for not participating, there is that inner sense of superiority which is never good nor productive, either. I try to avoid it, but being an example of good cheer and spreading warmth in place of commercialism ain’t easy.
My pup, Kobi, and I live in a second floor apartment. This year, our neighbor directly across the street filled his bay window with a large Christmas Tree with many bright bulbs, which I enjoyed without having to deal with the needles. When I made it a point to thank him, he lit up, explaining that he hadn’t had a tree in over ten years, but that the decision to do so had filled his heart with joy, not to mention the delicious scent of pine throughout his home.
This inspired me to dig out my fake candles for each window facing his, which reminded me of how those of the next door neighbor, along with the tastefully applied blue lights with which he adorns his shrubs brightens our end of the street. He’s French, with a charming accent, and we exchange cheerful greetings year round.
Finally broke down and unearthed a sweet little wooden train I’ve had forever. I had to admit it looked dear as could be with Santa waving from the engine, one tiny box car and cheery caboose bringing up the rear, surrounded by fresh greens. I made a spray with a few small branches arranged in an old metal watering can and added a red bow to the handle, which inspired me to find a wreath decorated with holly berries to hang on the front door. Oh right…there was also a smiling snowman, made from a slate roofing tile unearthed with the little train, which I hung outside the kitchen door and a couple of sparkly fruit arrangements.
I kind of sucked myself into that, didn’t I?
A few cards sent and received, and a plethora of incredibly beautiful ecards, with warm and sometimes newsy messages, arrived through the clouds. Loving calls. Many generous, bountiful and nourishing heaven sent gifts. On Christmas Day Kobi and I bundled up well to take a windy walk along the bike path. Looking out over the gorgeous mountain views, I felt happy and grateful to live in such a beautiful place. After a dinner of lamb chops, a baked sweet spud and a pretty little salad, it was early to bed and sleep.
New Year’s Eve and Day were almost the same, except Sky came by and brought wine for dinner (more lamby babies).
It’s been awfully nice to have a couple of weeks uninterrupted by holidays. Most likely tied into my mother’s admonitions about cluttered closets resulting in cluttered minds, have been weeding and tossing files from cabinets, along with the less physical aspects of my 74th year.
I continued my study of patterns, which began on an LSD trip forty years ago. They are everywhere, tho my faves — patterns left by Jack Frost on the windows— are rare now. But it is interesting to consider the ways we mimic Nature’s patterns in our highway systems-- branching off, four leaf clovers. Looking closely at a houseplant you can’t help but see the sensibility and balance, not just in the way leaves are attached to stems, but the way they thin out or cluster according to their need (or lack thereof) for water and light. We would do well to, not simply enjoy the beauty, but heed the message of cooperation found out doors. Everything seems connected, unlike we mortals who are growing more unconnected through modern tools of communication which do not provide facial expressions, eye contact or the unique sounds of individual voices, which seems to be breaking up natural behavior patterns. There’s more, of course, but that’s a good wad to chaw on.
Not that this is earth shattering, but last summer I realized that tardiness more than annoys me. It is rude, dammit, and apparently my anger had been stewing for a long while-- as one very nice, relatively new, friend found out when she arrived late… for the zillionth time.
Because you have asked, I know a lot of you are wondering what became of that sweet young man, J. He left, of course, and that made me sad. But who would expect to have so much fun and experience such pure joy at this stage of life? It was a real gift.
Towards the end of 2014, I found Daily Kos, which provides a sense of community, an outlet for creativity and continuously challenges, amuses and educates me in ways I never thought about… but what’s what happens when you hang with a bunch of people who think.
The dawns have been particularly beautiful of late. A couple of mornings ago, I was struck by the way a few dark gray clouds formed waves crashing through the palest of light gray oceans. Then, out of nowhere, pink and gold slowly rose and spread over the horizon. It was like viewing a full orchestral crescendo starting with sweet flutes, picked up by the strings, horns and other guys, working up to the cymbals crashing, before turning into a quietly clear blue cloudless sky. Yesterday I awoke to a snow frosted village of homes nestled together with wisps of smoke coming from chimneys. Gollee!
For many years I have maintained that to feel content a person needs some contact with Nature, to love and feel loved and have something to look forward to. Blessings and strength and wisdom to all….