Christmas Eve

Today is December 24th, Christmas Eve.  This is the ending of the season of Advent which starts four Sundays before Christmas.  It is also the beginning of the Christmas season which continues for another 12 days.  

 I love that these are seasons.  Understanding the time and significance of the these seasons allows me to do much of what I want to do and also take time to reflect, contemplate and pray about the significance of the holidays.

A few years ago I was involved with some planning at my church.  We initiated the process by sharing a poem that encouraged dreaming of all that could be and not being afraid to dream.  I have not been able to get my hands on it, if I should I will post it. 

In the meantime, this planning process started at about the beginning of Advent and the poem inspired me to do an Advent Collage. 

I set some limits for myself.  I limited my materials to what I could get at the Dollar Store and what I already had at home; and the total budget was limited to $40.00. My major supply was holiday gift bags.  And I was really thrilled to use both Christmas and Hanukkah designs. 


With an assortment in hand, I then spent my evenings sketching, then cutting and gluing.  I was and still am very pleased with the end result and so were the members of St. James. 

Here are pictures of the finished collage which graced our church wall for quite some time, and was re-hung the following Advent.

 

Tribal Culture

I just finished re-watching The Honourable Woman starring Maggie Gyllenhaal.  I was spell bound watching it the first time and just as engrossed the second time around.  I'm finding re-watching shows allows me to pick up on details that I missed the first time and enhances my enjoyment and appreciation.  There is so much to absorb in each scene I find I simply can't take it all in when focused on the dialogue, action, plot. So, for those shows and movies which I have really liked I think I am about to do a replay of all.

Like my first viewing of The Honourable Woman I was again taken with Nessa's clothing.  If I had the figure and the funds, that is the exact style I would want to wear.  I think I really related to Nessa and not just because of her clothes.  I never endured the tragedies and horrors that filled her life, but I could relate to moving from a place of comfort to one of discomfort and then striving to become both comfortable and successful in this new life, mine was just on a much smaller scale.

The aspect of this story that has stayed with me since I finished watching a number of days ago, is the commitment of the Palestinian leader to the very, very long game.  He had a vicious goal and was content to wait years for it to become fulfilled.  And his planning for it included all the long years of waiting.

This lack of need for instant results/gratification brings to mind something I learned when studying Organizational Management.  We examined the Japanese model which is to look for the long term result, long term being 5, 10, or 15 years.  The Japanese management style is grounded in the long history of the Japanese culture.  My years in management have taught me that investing time and energy in a long-term, strategic plan gets the positive results sought.  Spending time and energy reacting to situations with no ultimate goal makes for no progress or growth

The planning for the long, long term seems inconsistent with our American "do it now" approach.  My impression is that we look for the quick hit with immediate results.  What I woke up wondering about this morning is, does this have to do with our lack of a long history of tribal culture.  The plan of this terrorist (even though fictional) is grounded in a long tribal history.  Perhaps being a member of a tribe that has existed for centuries provides an innate temperament towards being able to be comfortable with waiting.  

We Americans don't seem to have a tribal culture.  Rather, so many of us seek to connect to that of our ancestors, thus this recent surge of interest in tracing genealogy. I don't mean to imply that this is a bad thing, but that connecting to roots in other cultures doesn't foster the growth of our own.  Maybe we don't necessarily need one, but perhaps we should be attuned to that of others and have that be major consideration for interacting with them.

Don't have a clue what this all means, it is just the idea that I awoke with.  But, I think there is something to be learned here.  Would love to hear from any and all what your think about this.  I've not yet finished my first cup of coffee so am off to do that.Enough early morning heavy thinking, my head hurts!

Advent is my Favorite Season

Advent has always been one of my favorites seasons, the shortening of the days, lengthening of the darkness and the preparing my home and heart for the miracle of Christmas has always delighted me.  Once the lights have been put up, sitting in their magical illumination and listening to Christmas music has been something I’ve loved since a small child, when we first started hanging lights in the windows.

In those first days of living on my own, when funds were limited, I would spend my evenings with the magical Christmas lights and carols to set the mood while I crocheted, knitted, or sewed hats, scarves, and ties.  It mattered little if the recipient ever wore the gift; and some of them were pretty awful and should not have been worn, but the important part for me was the time I spend making it and thinking of the person. 

After a few years homemade cookies replaced the crafts.  I would collect coffee cans and decorate them.  Then each would be filled with an assortment of cookies.  I opted for hand formed when my attempt at rolled and cut cookies proved a total failure.  Regardless of how they looked they tasted yummy (how could they not loaded with butter and sugar).  This again was a bit of a ritual that I did with my lights and music and thoughts of who would be the recipients.

Secret Santa giving at work was always a stunning exercise in creativity and ingenuity.  I’ve enjoyed writing funny poems and illustrating them, creating themed ornaments for miniature trees, baking and cooking special treats.  Two of the funniest gifts I received were a cut and paste Pick Your Mate mail order catalogue of sexy, male models and 2 D batteries in a hand decorated box boldly noted TOY NON INCLUDED!!!  In the midst of all this fun and silliness there was still the time spent preparing the gifts while thinking of the person to whom they would be given.

I’ve always enjoyed decorating my home with lights, greens, and treasured ornaments.  Over the years I scaled it down and now use a few small artificial trees instead of one large real one.  But the process is still pretty much the same, though now a bit slower.  Before I decorate a room I will evaluate the furniture arrangement and may tweak a bit or do a major rearrange.  In that process thorough cleaning gets done, on the same scale as my Lenten Spring cleaning.  Then when everything is where I want it and sparkling clean I reward myself with putting out the decorations.  This used to be a one or two day job, now I consider it a success if I get one room completed in one day.

There have been periods in my life when I have ignored or denied my desire for a spiritual life.  But even in those years, the spirituality of Advent crept in.  As each room was completed I would (and still do) sit in the illuminated darkness and relish the mystery of Advent, darkness to light, and the miracle of the Christmas birth.

As I got older and connected to my spiritual aspect there has always been, to a greater of lesser degree, a dimension of prayer and contemplation in my Advent preparations.  Sometimes I used a specific book of Advent readings for reflection.  Other times I would take this opportunity to re-start praying with Scripture using http://www.amazon.com/Speak-Lord-Your-Servant-Listening/dp/0892833718. And then there are the times when I pray the Rosary.

I have to explain, I did not grow up in a family where we prayed the Rosary and as a public school kid, we were not taught this in CCD classes.  So, I have never known the exact prayers or order.  But I have always liked the comfort of fingering the beads and understand the each section and bead was meant to focus prayer and reflection. Not knowing the official form, I’ve developed my own.   I find using Rosary beads a wonderful way to guide me through giving thanks for all those who have and do bless my life

I begin with a prayer of gratitude for all the riches and blessings which have and still do fill my life.  Especially my two girls, C & S who have filled my life with such joy and gratitude.  I pray that they may have lives of peace and love.

The first bead is always for brother M he has been a wonderful big brother, my support, rescuer and friend.  The next is for my nephew T and his family.  The bead after that is for my niece M and her family.  The next bead is for my Mother and Father who loved me so well, gave me so much, and who I still miss daily and are ever present in my heart and mind.  The final bead in this section is for my deceased brother J who was a devoted and attentive brother and is remembered with joy and missed with longing. 

I think the remaining sections of the circle are decants, but not sure what is supposed to be done.  I use each for my own focus.  I use the first decant to remember and pray for all the wonderful friends who have and still do fill my life.  I use the second decant to hold in my heart all of my relatives far and wide; there are many and they are spread around the world.  The third decant is where I reflect on those with whom I have worked over the course of my life; both those who have been great colleagues and those, well, not so much.  The fourth decant is for the larger world and those major problems which prevent us from living on a planet of peace, joy, and fulfillment.  The final decant is reserved for special prayers, concerns, people and reflects what may be happening in my life, their lives, and the world at this moment.  I end with a prayer of gratitude and awe, which is neither formula nor scripted; I try to let my heart speak as it needs.  On those rare occasions when words escape me I will rely on the Our Father

I have found that I do like and need a spiritual discipline in my life.  Having a daily practice keeps my heart and mind in a better place.  But, like so many things, I start with gusto and then peter out.  Advent and Lent are two great restarting points for me, each June I go on a week-long retreat which also re-ignites me.  I do hit a dry spell that starts in late fall.  That is perhaps why Advent is so very special.  It motivates me to resume something which nurtures and fulfills my heart and soul.

Adventure in the Air

I spent Thanksgiving in Seattle; my brother and I visited his son and his family.  It was a wonderful holiday.  Not so much for the trips out and back.  We flew Southwest Air as the rates are the most reasonable and they could accommodate our leaving from different cities and meeting up on the first stop.  The flights were totally uneventful; we boarded timely, left on time, arrived a bit early.  The flight attendants were delightful, friendly, caring and very, very funny.  This added to the trip and it was a nice surprise that they could poke fun at the no-frills, tiny space features of the journey.

While squished in our seats my brother and I reminisced about air travel years ago.  He did a lot with is job, me not so much, but I did get to experience really fine air travel. We both agreed that the European airlines provided the best service and years ago Swiss Air was by far the best.

My reaction to my flight from NYC to Amsterdam was, if this is economy, what do they provide in first class?  The seats were ample, comfy and like a home recliner really reclined!  They provided fluffy slipper socks, a cozy pillow and a wonderfully soft wool blanket.  The meal was restaurant quality and there was a choice.  It was served on real plates with real flatware.  Before the meal they served a beverage and hor’s devours and after, with coffee or tea, Swiss chocolates, of course!  I felt like royalty.  On that trip I connected in Amsterdam to a flight to Tanzania on KLM.  Again, similar top of the line service; space, comfort and hospitality were the by-words. 

In the 70’s and 80’s I often flew from NY or Boston to Florida to visit my parents.  I would travel on whoever had the lowest fare, National, United, Delta and maybe some others.  The service did not compare with Swiss Air, but there was service and there was room to actually relax in your seat.  I remember working on knitting and crocheting projects without disturbing my seat-mates. And never felt the need to pack a “brown bag” for the journey.

Not so today.  On the trip to Seattle I sat in the middle seat between my brother and a very pleasant young man.  At no time during the entire trip could I sit back and relax both my shoulders against the seat back; I could twist sideways and do one or the other, but never both at the same time.  Similarly we all sat in rather rigid, at attention positions with our arms folded over our chests.  There simply was not enough room for one arm, let alone two on either arm rest.  And, with our carry on items stored under the seat in front of us, there was no room for our feet, so stretching one’s legs was also not an option.

Knowing in advance that there was limited food service and that our entire trip to Seattle was over 7 hours I had brought a few food items to sustain us; some sliced pepperoni and cheese with crackers, Clementine’s, cookies.  This in combination with the offered cheese and cracker packets did the trick.  Getting at these items and managing to eat them was another exercise in acrobatics as there was no elbow room and the tray table jammed us in even more.

Comfort aside, one of my most memorable flights was an in-country flight from New Delhi to Srinagar, Kashmir in India.  This was in the late 1980’s when fighting between Kashmir and Pakistan was just starting and travel there was still permitted.  The security check at both airports for departure and arrival was something I had never encountered before and matches today’s thoroughness, but without the computer and scanning technology.  All bags were opened and thoroughly searched, so much for neat and tidy packing.  All passengers were searched and patted down.  The airports were manned by the army and the solders, men and women, were equipped with machine guns and looked very threatening.

 Having nothing more dangerous than an emery board I got through the checks without event.  Not so this most recent trip to Seattle.  First glitch, my pants had metal rivets as decorations on the pockets.  I wore the damn cargo pants as I thought it would be great having all those pockets, never thought about the metal.  So, even though it was clear what was setting off the alarm I had to endure a full body pat down.  Having passed that, the next glitch was my carry on bag.  I had brought some knitting to occupy me on the plane (foolish me, I thought I would be able to move and use my arms and hands!).  The wooden needles were cause for further investigation, but got passed through also.  Not so lucky with my keys.  I have a key chain that separates and I usually only carry the car key with me, leaving the other end locked in the car.  Since I was leaving my car in long term parking for about a week I thought, hmmm, maybe I should take these also.  Attached to the end with my house and mail box keys are a tiny LCD flashlight and a minuscule  Swiss army knife.  The latter was the cause for real consternation.  I opted to let them toss it, but to get this screening process over with.

Going back to that in-country India flight.  It was a mid-day flight and lunch was served; the offering was a vegetarian curry with rice. Gracefully adorning the attractive plate was a tempting string bean, or so I thought.  Being delighted at its presence and being a lover of almost all thinks vegetable (on this trip my niece-in-law and grand-nieces have me almost convinced my opinion of Okra could be changed), I picked it up and popped it whole into my mouth thinking, ”YUM!”. 

It was about the third chew that my brain registered, NOT A STRING BEAN!  OMG, IT’S A CHILI PEPPER!  Ignoring all good manners I did spit it out, but the damage had been done.  My friend traveling with me said she could see the fire and smoke coming out of my nose and ears.  Lots of yogurt and plain rice eventually calmed my mouth, but I can still feel that initial burst of fire consuming my entire mouth and tongue.  My neighboring passengers found this amusing, me not so.  When the fire finally subsided I simply tucked my chin to my chest and prayed for this flight to end.