I challenge you to a dare
Trees, grass, water, rocks; all ordinary, extraordinarily beautiful.
A garden in Bar Harbor, Maine, June 2012
“Can I challenge you to a dare? Today, stop praying for anything other than the life you have!…before we begin the year, with a sense of adventure, give thanks for your most “ordinary” life. This is how the miracle begins, as we embark with a sense of adventure seeking the splendid in the simple gift of the everyday.”
— Sarah Ban Breathnach
One of my two all-time favorite movies is The Wizard of Oz, which I’ve always thought of (sometimes over the teasing of friends) as a story with many profound lessons. Through dazzling but difficult adventures, Dorothy learns that what she has been seeking has been hers all along. It’s a discovery I imagine that many of us need to make.
If the past 14 months have done nothing else for me (although they have done much), they have taught me the unsurpassed blessings that go with each moment of ordinary life. It’s something I knew intellectually for years, but recently I have been rather hit over the head with it, again and again. While these poundings have left me more than a little bewildered at times, they have provided a sort of clarity through which I am able to see things I didn’t see very well before.
What do you love most about your everyday life? Feel free to share these graces with us here. Reading of your joys, we will doubtless recognize common threads in our own amazing tapestries. Let’s keep weaving!
One year ago today
This post was first published seven years ago today. The original post, comments and photo are linked, along with two other related posts, below. These links to related posts, and their thumbnail photos, do not appear in the blog feed; they are only visible when viewing the individual posts by clicking on each one. I have no idea why, nor do I know how they choose the related posts. That’s just the way WordPress does things.
A white quilt
Fragile but unbroken, a shrub sleeps beneath a blanket of snow, January 2010.
“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.” ― Lewis Carroll
Snow can seem brutal when we have to shovel it, or when it freezes into hardened slush, dingy with vehicle dirt and exhaust. But when it first falls, it appears almost miraculous. It clings to the tiniest branches and leaves, and coats everything so evenly, blindingly white in the morning sun that is magnified by its brilliance. In most of the places we have lived, snow never fell at all, but even here in Virginia, when it does fall, its beauty is short-lived. No less remarkable for that brevity, though, and probably more enjoyable.
If you have snow today, I hope you can find beauty in it despite whatever inconvenience it brings to you. Feel free to send us some pretty snow scenes if you photograph any. Those of us in warmer climates might actually enjoy seeing a bit of fluffy white snow!
One year ago today
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Actually see
Cyclamen brighten a gray January day in the Financial District of San Francisco, 2004.
“The beauty and mystery of this world only emerges through affection, attention, interest and compassion . . . open your eyes wide and actually see this world by attending to its colors, details and irony.” ― Orhan Pamuk
There’s a double blessing in opening our eyes to the world around us. Not only are we enriched by the joy and fascination of what we discover; we are also equipped, through our experiences, with greater resilience to weather our personal cares and sorrows. The world is full of wonders untainted by our individual misfortunes. Knowing this gives us perspective. As we pay attention, we store away mental treasures to enjoy when our immediate circumstances seem drab or discouraging.
Are there places you think of when you want a quick imaginary getaway? Mental snapshots of something lovely or memorable? Hold these gems close when winter closes in, and let them spark anticipation of what the year might bring. Feel free to share some of your favorite images that brighten cold or weary days.
One year ago today
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Voices at the door
A doorway in Mykonos, Greece, May 2008.
“I sit beside the fire and think
Of all that I have seen
Of meadow flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
In autumns that there were
With morning mist and silver sun
And wind upon my hair
I sit beside the fire and think
Of how the world will be
When winter comes without a spring
That I shall ever see
For still there are so many things
That I have never seen
In every wood in every spring
There is a different green
I sit beside the fire and think
Of people long ago
And people that will see a world
That I shall never know
But all the while I sit and think
Of times there were before
I listen for returning feet
And voices at the door”
One year ago today
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So late so soon
Carla with a wall full of clocks at a bed and breakfast inn
in Placerville, California, December 2002.
“How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before it’s afternoon. December is here before it’s June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?”
― Dr. Seuss
My sister Carla has been teaching children for nearly 40 years, and she shares my love for Dr. Seuss and all his wonderful, eminently sensible nonsense. With deceptive simplicity, his rhymes capture some fairly deep concepts along with more mundane sentiments all of us feel, such as the one above.
You are probably wondering, as I am, how on earth the past year has slipped away so quickly. For us it’s all the more amazing considering the trauma (foreseen and unforeseen) that came our way in 2013. It would seem that such agonies would be remembered as dragging on, lasting forever, but we passed from crisis to crisis so quickly that we could hardly catch a breath in between. The nearly two months of 2013 that were passed in hospital settings were like some sort of alternate universe, where time vanished rapidly as we scarcely noticed.
We can say with certainty that this is one year we will end with no regrets at its passing, even with all the blessings it held. Still, the joys of the year — the birth of our grandson, our quick getaways together, our amazed relief at all that Jeff has survived, and our gratitude for the friends and family, here and elsewhere, who kept us going — were rich indeed.
I hope that you, too, will end the year today with a sense of thankfulness (and maybe relief), as well as a feeling of optimism for 2014. Your presence here this year has been a gift, one that will be remembered fondly as long as we live.
The clocks are ticking…the end of 2013 approaches.
Click here for a HAPPY NEW YEAR wish!
One year ago today
Ring out the false, ring in the true
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Divine pleasures
Mama and Daddy always had a roaring fire going during winter.
“Surely everyone is aware of the divine pleasures which attend a wintry fireside; candles at four o’clock, warm hearthrugs, tea, a fair tea-maker, shutters closed, curtains flowing in ample draperies to the floor, whilst the wind and rain are raging audibly without.”
― Thomas De Quincey
Before Jeff’s surgery in November, when he was disappointed at the thought of spending Thanksgiving in the hospital, I reminded him that winter would be the best time of year to be at home recovering. We have enjoyed being indoors together on cold days, especially when it’s rainy or snowy. If you are having winter weather where you live, I hope you will join me in a cup of hot tea, cocoa or coffee, a good book, some lively conversation, or just a companionable silence. Winter can be nature’s way of telling us to slow down and take a break!
One year ago today
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See all the good
If the field was full of flowers, that tulip would scarcely be noticed. Washington, DC, April 2013
“Maybe all my days are filled with little miracles, but I’m too distracted by what I think is my life to notice them. Sometimes bad news is the best way to see all the good quickly and clearly.” — Glennon Doyle Melton
When trouble hits, whether it’s catastrophic or just a series of mind-numbing irritations, it’s so easy to see everything through the filter of what is bothering us most. The good news is, if we can break out of that tendency, we might be able to use the sorrow or anger or frustration to effect a complete reversal in what we see. The absolutely glorious beauties or profound mercies or steadfast comforts that fill our lives will glow brightly against the backdrop of all that’s not going right.
If there’s anything troubling you today, anything sad or infuriating or tiresome or exhausting, I hope you can use that as a starting point to think about all the bad things that AREN’T happening, and from there it’s a short hop to all the good things that are still there, all around us though obscured by the noise of the negative. I hope your day brings all the good into sharp and clear focus!
One year ago today
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Success is stumbling
This seemed a fitting place to photograph our fearless little Schipperke.
Donner Memorial State Park, California, 2004
“Success is stumbling from failure to failure with no loss of enthusiasm.”
― Winston Churchill
One of my favorite places in California is the haunting Donner Memorial State Park near Truckee. It’s beautiful country, but there’s an eerie stillness that lingers in memory of the tragic history of the Donner Party, for whom the park is named. Even for the survivors who eventually reached their destination, life was anything but easy. Yet they and other pioneers persisted in the face of one setback after another, and today we enjoy the fruits (literally and figuratively) of their efforts.
The park features a striking monument to all the trailblazers who ventured westward to settle in California. Atop the tall stone memorial is a statue of a pioneer family, with the plaque pictured above at its base. Though the engraved words feature archaic language, and bewildering line spacing and punctuation, the underlying tribute is clear. It describes a strength of character to which we can all aspire.
As we embark on another year, I hope we will think of these words, which evoke traits that are powerful when linked: competence with kindness; bravery with benevolence. Whatever we face in 2014, may the year find us indomitable, and unafraid.
One year ago today
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The best remedy
A gull and a person, enjoying solitude at the beach. Dam Neck, Virginia, April 2010
“The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature. As longs as this exists, and it certainly always will, I know that then there will always be comfort for every sorrow, whatever the circumstances may be. And I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles.”
― Anne Frank
Think about it: those words were written by a young girl trapped indoors, hiding in an ultimately vain attempt to escape a fate even more cruel. Her courageous example of how to defeat despair has inspired people all over the world.
Perhaps being deprived of the solace found in nature only served to give Anne a deeper appreciation of it. Most of us have no reason to fear such deprivation, but we can learn from hers nonetheless. I hope we will all take the advice of a young person who was wise beyond her years. Let’s make time to exercise this freedom to go outside and rejoice, in honor of Anne and all like her who left a legacy of courage and optimism to light the way for us.
One year ago today
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Beautiful and joyful
Historic furniture on display at Philadelphia Museum of Art, July 2007
“Frugality is one of the most beautiful and joyful words in the English language, and yet one that we are culturally cut off from understanding and enjoying. The consumption society has made us feel that happiness lies in having things, and has failed to teach us the happiness of not having things.” — Elise Boulding
I have been thinking that one of the reasons we rush about with so many activities during holiday seasons, is the sheer bliss of the relative calm when that rush is over. Several people have spoken recently about the restful serenity of Christmas afternoon, and I have to admit that the older I grow, the more that respite becomes the sweetest part of the season for me.
In the same way, the over-abundance of blessings we feel at holiday seasons — food, gifts, joyous and lively time spent with loved ones — seem to lead naturally to a craving for quiet days and an almost sparse existence, at least temporarily. Our thoughts may turn with some enthusiasm to our plans for clearing out our possessions, eating more sensibly, getting more rest, and making time for contemplative walks, thoughtful reading or daily devotional breaks. We begin to sense the happiness of not having things, as Boulding described.
Perhaps this is part of the impulse that underlies the tradition of New Year’s resolutions, but such aspirations need not be formalized into well-defined goals. We can use the natural rhythms of the seasons as a context for easing into neglected tasks or important plans that have been pushed to the back burner in the busyness of past weeks. I hope you will find a way to bask in times of stillness during the final week of the year, and take at least a partial break from the typical day-to-day stress that crowds out nourishing rest, resolve and reflection. May 2014 bring all of us increased awareness of the joys of frugality.
One year ago today
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Let us remember
Our York home at Christmas, 2009
“And when we give each other Christmas gifts in His name, let us remember that He has given us the sun and the moon and the stars, and the earth with its forests and mountains and oceans–and all that lives and move upon them. He has given us all green things and everything that blossoms and bears fruit and all that we quarrel about and all that we have misused–and to save us from our foolishness, from all our sins, He came down to earth and gave us Himself.” ― Sigrid Undset
From our family to yours, we wish you a wonderful holiday season. Thank you for the gift of your presence here with us, today and especially during the difficult months of the past year. We pray you will all be blessed in 2014.
One year ago today
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In the company of children
Our son and his son enjoy their Christmas tree, December 2013.
“Christmas Day in the company of children is one of the few occasions on which men become entirely alive.” ― Robert Lynd
This quote sounds charming, but I couldn’t help but laugh a little to recall how exhausted Jeff and I used to be during the years when Santa would visit our sons. It always seemed that we were up half the night assembling toys, filling stockings and taking care of all the last minute preparations that couldn’t be done until the boys were soundly asleep. Just when we would think we were finished, there would be the dreaded “Hey, we forgot about ….” Even if we were entirely alive on Christmas Day, I doubt we were entirely awake!
Nevertheless, there’s nothing like the excitement of a child at Christmas. Our adorable next-door neighbor in Alexandria, who started kindergarten this year, was telling me with wonder how she went to see Santa, and HE KNEW HER NAME!! I told her that Santa was an exceptionally smart guy. Talking with her about old St. Nick was almost enough to make me want to sit down and write him a wish list myself.
Of course, Christmas Eve is the most magical night of the season, and I have such happy memories of the times during childhood when I went to sleep with “visions of sugarplums” dancing in my head. Even now that I’m an adult who is VERY grateful to be old enough to sleep soundly on Christmas Eve, something of the delight remains, and it’s still my favorite day of the year.
Today, I wish you the ability to see Christmas through the eyes of a child…whether your own young ones, your children’s children, your neighbors or friends, or the child who is still very much alive in all of us. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
One year ago today
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An act of recollection
Visiting friends enjoy Tammy’s train set, Yorktown, Virginia, December 2009.
“The Polar Express was the easiest of my picture book manuscripts to write… Once I realized the train was going to the North Pole, finding the story seemed less like a creative effort than an act of recollection. I felt, like the story’s narrator, that I was remembering something, not making it up.” — Chris Van Allsburg
If you’ve read Van Allsburg’s wonderful book (which is far more appealing than the movie that was inspired by it) you can probably identify with his description of that magical sense of “remembering” something that was purely fantasy, as if it has really happened. I don’t know why trains in particular seem to go so well with Christmas, but there’s probably more than one reason why so many people set up toy train sets during the holidays.
Another favorite at Christmas is the imaginary Christmas village. I have a tiny one that I seldom set up anymore, but I love seeing them in shops and especially in people’s homes. The author of one of the blogs I follow has posted a detailed tour of her own Christmas village, so we can enjoy this magical miniature world through her efforts; see her video embedded below. Thanks to Chris Van Allsburg, Ingrid Schlueter and others who understand that we can travel in our imagination to places unavailable to us by any other road.
One year ago today
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The diamond-frosted clasp
Outside the window of Jeff’s hallway at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center
Bethesda. Maryland, December 9, 2013
“December, the diamond-frosted clasp linking twelve jeweled months to yet another year.” — Phyllis Nicholson
While most of us associate December with the holiday festivities, there is also the winding down of the calendar year, and a sense of wonder about how fast the months flew by, whether we were having fun or not.
I can say without reservation that I am looking forward to the next twelve months with far more hope and anticipation than I felt at this time last year. Still, I’m never unaware that we cannot know what will lie ahead of us in 2014. For all who visit here, those I have known for years, those I have come to know through your comments and visits, and those I don’t yet know about, I wish for you a year of jeweled months and sparkling moments. Thanks for sharing our lives since November 2012. You have made these months much brighter for me.
One year ago today
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Deep in December
Five years ago today, our traditional Christmas dinner party with friends.
We did not know it was the last time we would all be together at Christmas.
December 21, 2008
“Deep in December it’s nice to remember
Although you know the snow will follow
Deep in December it’s nice to remember
Without a hurt the heart is hollow…”
— (Lyricist) Tom Jones, from The Fantasticks
I grew up listening to this lovely song, and Jeff and I saw the staged musical on one of our first dates. Although the message of its words rang true to me in my youth, I did not fully understand them until recent years.
Holidays are fraught with bittersweet memories of times forever gone. Whether the years we remember are recent or decades ago, no small part of their poignancy is the sense of how unaware we must have been; how little we sensed that these hours and days would soon vanish, never to fully return. The irony is that we can lose ourselves in these ruminations while even now, the days that are passing may well be times we will someday look back on with an equally strong feeling of nostalgia.
I have told Jeff I hope and believe we will look back on this Christmas season as the time when everything changed; when we felt he was given his life back, with a fair chance of living far beyond the “two years with treatment” predicted over a year ago. Of course, any number of things could happen to change that. Knowing this, we cherish each day and savor each moment to the fullest extent possible.
Look around you today, at the people, places and events of your life you value most. Today they are yours! Even as we think with wistful gratitude of times that have passed, I hope we will embrace the beautiful, ephemeral present, with all its joys and sorrows.
One year ago today
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Sensations more painful
A tree entwined with headstones at Arlington National Cemetery, April 2012
“There are few sensations more painful, than, in the midst of deep grief, to know that the season which we have always associated with mirth and rejoicing is at hand.”
— Sarah Josepha Hale
This week, a dear friend of ours lost her close and steadfast friend of over 37 years, after a courageous battle with illness. In the midst of our deep gratitude and joy at Jeff’s improved prognosis, we grieve with our friend in her time of bereavement. Probably almost all of us know someone who is struggling with grief and sorrow at this time of year, when it may seem to them that everyone else is celebrating life.
In researching the quote above, I found it interesting that the woman most associated with creating a national holiday of Thanksgiving has also reminded us that there are many who face lonely and painful times at Christmas. Something about the holiday sharpens the sense of loss we feel. I doubt that I will ever forget the difficult and painful times I have known on Christmas Eves in years past, including the evening in 2010 when we learned that our beloved friend had a brain tumor.
As we observe our holiday celebrations, let’s be especially mindful of those who are enduring sorrow, grief and suffering. Perhaps one gift you can give this season is a brief but heartfelt note to someone who is struggling. Perhaps you can make a phone call, visit or similar gesture to show them they are not forgotten and alone.
The comfort we have felt from the caring words of friends here and elsewhere offered us solace that we hope will be there for others who need it. If you know someone who is struggling and would appreciate a handwritten card, even from someone they do not know, you are welcome to send me their name and address (I will edit it out of the comments) and I will be happy to write to them.
Thanks for sharing our sorrows as well as our joys over the past year. For those who are in the midst of sadness in this season, our hearts are with you, and we pray that you will find peace and consolation.
One year ago today
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All is bright
Pasha always loved to relax under the Christmas tree. December 2010
“All is calm, all is bright.” — Fr. Joseph Mohr, as translated by John F. Young
Today I’m having to keep telling myself to take a few deep breaths and stay calm. Being so far behind on household tasks such as cleaning and bill paying, as well as trying to enjoy at least some of the things I love to do at Christmas, I’m less patient than I need to be with the inevitable glitches that pop up here and there.
On Wednesday afternoon as I write this, the latest minor crisis is an error in Jeff’s home care supplies that were supposed to be given to him or delivered by now, but somehow got left out of the package. Since it’s something urgently needed, it meant 4 hours of trying to cut through bureaucratic red tape and find a way to get the supplies immediately (“immediate” is a word not normally applicable to anything related to the federal government). Now we have to drive back up to Bethesda to pick up a few items that should have come home with us in the bagfuls of other, more easily obtained things such as gauze and tape, having determined that some medical supplies cannot be procured any other way. So, though this carol has never been my particular favorite, I find myself in need of its serene images today.
When I checked to see what was posted one year ago, it was interesting to see that it was about simplicity. Perfect timing! If you find yourself rushing around and getting a bit impatient, join me in taking a few quick minutes (I’m taking mine here, as I write this) to remember that the big picture cannot be spoiled by irritating details. I wish you heavenly peace!
One year ago today
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A state of mind
These lovely Poinsettias were a gift from our friend Tammy in December, 2012.
“Christmas is not a time nor a season, but a state of mind. To cherish peace and goodwill, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas.”
― Calvin Coolidge
Now that Jeff is home, my days and hours are engulfed in happy busyness. I can’t seem to let a day go by, though, without sending out a greeting to all who visit here. I hope that everyone is having the kind of holiday season that President Coolidge described. Thanks for being here!
One year ago today
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Home for the holidays
Jeff and Pasha enjoy being home for the holidays, Christmas Eve 2006.
“Oh, there’s no place like home for the holidays…” — Al Stillman
As of last night, we are HOME. Though we are exhausted, I can’t remember a time when we’ve been happier to be here! Thanks for being here with us!
One year ago today
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The summer of the soul
I think this photo of me was made on Christmas Eve, 1959.
“A part of childhood we’ll always remember
It is the summer of the soul in December…”
—Paul Williams, from the song “It Feels Like Christmas“
There’s a persistent misunderstanding that adults with autism or intellectual disabilities remain children all of their lives. This is a convenient but often demeaning illusion for those who have a hard time seeing them as fellow adults; as peers who happen to have disabilities.
In some ways, it’s an easy mistake to make. Many adults with developmental disabilities lack the normal inhibitions about showing emotion. This can be a blessing as well as a curse, and nowhere is it more of a blessing than at Christmas. The childlike joy Matt has in all the festivities of Christmas, and especially in the music, is a welcome adornment to the season in our home. Now more than ever, I feel such joy at having a companion who is not only filled with the same enthusiasm for the holiday as I am, but who is also unafraid to show it. Delight is much more fun when shared.
Yesterday Matt and I enjoyed listening to the music from one of our favorite versions of Dickens’ classic story, The Muppet Christmas Carol. As with so much of what is crafted by talented artists who work with children in mind, it would be a mistake to underestimate the sophistication of such offerings. The offbeat humor and exceptional performance of Michael Caine would make the movie worth seeing even without the music, but the Paul Williams songs are unforgettably wonderful. Almost every line of every song could be a theme for a blog post.
I hope you are able to enjoy the holiday season with the heart of a child, along with the deeper appreciation, and responsibility, that goes with being an adult. Let’s all bask in the glow of this summer of the soul, and give the children in our lives something warm to remember for years to come.
One year ago today
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Renewed day by day
I took this photo of our backyard on Christmas afternoon in 2004.
“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.” — 2 Corinthians 4:16, NIV
The barren winter landscape, even when accented with snow, is a stark and sometimes sad contrast to the lush flowering of just six months prior. Yet underground, much is going on as the plants that look still and dormant are being invisibly fed the nutrients that will enable them to flourish with new life when spring comes again. May we remember not to lose heart in the cold months when growth is not obvious. Despite our inability to see it, we are inwardly renewed on a daily basis as we feed our minds and souls on words of life, truth and faith.
One year ago today
This post was first published seven years ago today. The original post, comments and photo are linked, along with two other related posts, below. These links to related posts, and their thumbnail photos, do not appear in the blog feed; they are only visible when viewing the individual posts by clicking on each one. I have no idea why, nor do I know how they choose the related posts. That’s just the way WordPress does things.
So much happiness
Charles Dickens reads A Christmas Carol to listeners at the Green Man Inn.
The Dickens Fair, San Francisco, December 2003
“He went to the church, and walked about the streets, and watched the people hurrying to and fro, and patted the children on the head, and questioned beggars, and looked down into the kitchens of homes, and up to the windows, and found that everything could yield him pleasure. He had never dreamed that any walk, that anything, could give him so much happiness.” — Charles Dickens
And speaking (day before yesterday) of the Ghost of Christmas Past, I give you Mr. Dickens, the founder of one of the most sumptuous literary feasts of all time. In a school essay, Drew once aptly described the love of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol as “a family heirloom.” I cannot remember a time when my siblings and I weren’t familiar with the tale and its characters, read aloud to us at Christmas and referred to often through the year. We watch every movie version and critique the casting, the adherence to the “canon” of Dickens’ text, and the overall success (or lack thereof) in capturing the spirit of the story. It’s almost a hobby with us.
If you are a Dickens enthusiast, and/or you’ve ever wanted to travel back in time, you probably would love the Dickens Christmas Fair held yearly in San Francisco. The enormous Cow Palace is transformed into a Victorian village, complete with your favorite literary and historical characters from that era. They’re a garrulous lot, scarcely seeming to notice your 21st century attire as they chat with you in their often archaic language. In fact, aside from Fezziwig’s festive warehouse party, talking with various players in the fair’s resident company is my favorite pastime there. Let others peruse the antique books and stylish millinery and sweet-smelling confections for sale. I’d rather listen to Mr. Dickens read at the Green Man Inn.
Since he’s tied with Jane Austen as my second-favorite author, I was quite eager to talk with him personally. I asked him a typically lame fan question: which of his books was his favorite?
“Well, that’s rather like asking which of my children is my favorite, isn’t it?” he answered cheerily. “I suppose my favorite is whatever I happen to be working on at the time. Which is your favorite?”
I consider A Christmas Carol to be so far out in front as to be out of the running, so I answered with the title of my second-favorite, “A Tale of Two Cities.”
“Ah, an interesting choice – a bit of an exception for me, as an historical novel. Most of my stories are written in our own time, you know.”
Oh, yeah, “our own time.” I had already slipped back into the 21st century; it took me a minute to follow him on that one. Even when I re-adjusted my mental clock to the early 1800’s, I had to admit I had never thought of it that way. That old Charles Dickens always has something interesting to say.
No small part of the magic of Christmas is what readers and writers refer to as the “willing suspension of disbelief.” I think adults who are adept at this particular skill — when appropriate, of course — are most able to enjoy the holidays, or for that matter, literature, art, drama and music in general. If you don’t know the immense pleasure of make-believe, it is never too late to learn. As Mr. Rogers knew, it’s not only a fun way to pass the time; it teaches us valuable lessons that our logical minds might dismiss as unnecessary or foolish.
I hope sometime during this season, you will be able to lose yourself in a wonderful story, a beautiful piece of music, or in appreciation of the dazzling and original artistry seen in decorations at this time of year. You’ll return from your quick escape with a refreshed spirit, happy to be back in your real life.
One year ago today
This post was first published seven years ago today. The original post, comments and photo are linked, along with two other related posts, below. These links to related posts, and their thumbnail photos, do not appear in the blog feed; they are only visible when viewing the individual posts by clicking on each one. I have no idea why, nor do I know how they choose the related posts. That’s just the way WordPress does things.
On his darkest day
One of our Robins in the favored nesting spot by our deck, April 2008
You have to believe in happiness,
Or happiness never comes …
Ah, that’s the reason a bird can sing –
On his darkest day he believes in Spring. — Douglas Malloch
I’ve done a lot of walking through snow and ice the past few days, and already there’s a part of me that is eager for spring — even though Christmas has not even come yet!
Soon it will be the winter solstice, the year’s darkest day. I’ve always thought the calendar was neatly arranged to sneak that psychological low point in there at the most festive time of the year; by the time the holidays have passed, we can console ourselves with the knowledge that there will be a bit more sun shining each day.
If you are already harboring thoughts of springtime, today’s post is for you. Believe in happiness! Very often, it may mean re-defining your understanding of the word, but you may come closer to the truth that way anyway.
One year ago today
This post was first published seven years ago today. The original post, comments and photo are linked, along with two other related posts, below. These links to related posts, and their thumbnail photos, do not appear in the blog feed; they are only visible when viewing the individual posts by clicking on each one. I have no idea why, nor do I know how they choose the related posts. That’s just the way WordPress does things.
This is where
Come on in – the party will be starting soon! Yorktown, December 2006
This is the bright home
in which I live,
this is where
I ask
my friends
to come,
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.
This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.
There is no house
like the house of belonging. — David Whyte
If you’ve been reading this blog for awhile, you know it has been a very personal journey for me. It has required a degree of disclosure that was quite difficult, and not without risk. While I’ve written voluminous amounts over the years, at least 80 percent of it has been in the form of personal, one-to-one correspondence, by letter, and later, increasingly, by email. Putting my words out into the open for all to see terrified me for many years, even after I was first published over 20 years ago, and it’s still intimidating for me when I stop to think about it.
When one lives a private, almost isolated life as I have lived for many years now, anonymity becomes a shield of protection and a cloak for vulnerability. But such safety, if it exists at all, is mostly illusory. A year later, I believe that the rewards of venturing into the scary but exciting terrain of cyberspace largely unarmed (to use Glennon Doyle Melton’s apt description) has been worth the risk for me.
So today I thank you for visiting me in my online home; now let’s take a journey with the Ghost of Christmas Past. I ask you to step, in spirit, into our York family room at Christmas time. Neither you nor we are able to be there today, but if we were, we could introduce you to the friends who, over many years, have filled that space with endless conversation, both lighthearted and serious, along with boisterous laughter, and even ukelele music and singing. Many of these loved ones have moved away; one has left this earth, and others we hope to see in our York home again in the future. Today, you are welcome to be there in spirit with us, a place where everyone belongs. I hope you will know the joy of creating such spaces and places wherever you may live in the physical world. There is no place quite like the house of belonging.
One year ago today
This post was first published seven years ago today. The original post, comments and photo are linked, along with two other related posts, below. These links to related posts, and their thumbnail photos, do not appear in the blog feed; they are only visible when viewing the individual posts by clicking on each one. I have no idea why, nor do I know how they choose the related posts. That’s just the way WordPress does things.
Share to the full
Just one of the amazing ice sculptures on display at Gaylord ICE!
National Harbor, Maryland, November 2011
“Let the children have their night of fun and laughter. Let the gifts of Father Christmas delight their play. Let us grown-ups share to the full in their unstinted pleasures before we turn again to the stern task and the formidable years that lie before us…”
— Winston Churchill, in his Christmas Eve message of 1941
Have you ever wondered how many things we do “for the children” are actually an excuse for us to have some fun? Never is this happy proclivity more obvious than during the holidays. I hope you are able to indulge in some childlike fun, whether or not you have actual children around to share it. A good shot of youthful delight is a great emotional immunization for the coming winter.
One year ago today:
This post was first published seven years ago today. The original post, comments and photo are linked, along with two other related posts, below. These links to related posts, and their thumbnail photos, do not appear in the blog feed; they are only visible when viewing the individual posts by clicking on each one. I have no idea why, nor do I know how they choose the related posts. That’s just the way WordPress does things.
Defeat Despair 