The Most Wonderful Time of the (TV) Year

I'm a fan of Christmas movies, no matter how improbable, no matter how formulaic.  Christmas movies and programs began playing on television before Thanksgiving this year and I started tuning in.  As a child, I loved the Rankin-Bass stop-motion animated specials of the 1960s.  I'd sit in my little black rocking chair in our cozy living room perched in front of our black and white television. I'd rock to the likes of Fred Astaire recounting the story of "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town," Jimmy Durante singing about "Frosty the Snowman" and Burl Ives singing "Holly Jolly Christmas" and "Silver and Gold" in "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer." These great Rankin-Bass Christmas TV classics are still being aired and will air over the next month.  Even though I no longer have my little black rocking chair, I will be tuning in, singing along with Fred, Jimmy and Burl.

Measuring Change

A friend told me that she heard someone say on public radio recently that time is how we measure change.  For one who is slow to accept change  -- unless I create the change myself, that statement resonated all the way to my roots.  When we measure time, I believe that we truly are measuring the constant evolution of life and its circumstances and consequences.  How else can we quantify and perhaps even make sense or bring meaning to the change that is happening within us and all around us all of the time?  Upon further reflection, how is it that as we grow older, time has a way of slipping by at a faster pace?  It can't just be that change is happening faster.  There must be some element of change in how we perceive time as the years of our lives pass by.  I can remember my dad saying that once the 4th of July had arrived, it wouldn't be long before Labor Day would be here.  As a child, I couldn't conceive what he was talking about, for summer felt endless.  Now that I'm an adult, it's amazing how quickly those endless summer days fly by once the 4th of July arrives!  As I think about time these days, more than ever I need time to be, for it is in those slower, more intentional moments that time becomes a precious commodity and change manageable.

Nothing Really Ends

Lately, parents of several of my friends and peers have been experiencing health changes or have passed away.  When you arrive in your 50s, such changes seem to represent a rite of passage for which most of us are ill-prepared.  In such difficult or perplexing times since my beloved mom passed away last year, I've found that I increasingly turn to the words of her favorite author, Gladys Taber, to find answers and solace.  So I did upon learning that my very good friend's father had passed away recently.  In Stillmeadow Calendar, I found these words to hopefully console her:  "I reflect that nothing really ends, but grows into something new."  I believe this is true in life and in our love for others, including perhaps especially those we have loved so much who have passed away.  If nothing really ends, but grows into something new, then my love and gratitude for my parents never ends, nor the memories I had with them or the realization that I am who I am because of them.  If I re-direct my thoughts and perspectives, the sorrow stings less and almost takes on a sweetness.  Nothing really great, really beautiful, really special ever ends.  We carry it always in our hearts.

Black Friday

I heard some disappointing and disturbing news from several local people that our community's recent Black Friday post-Thanksgiving holiday shopping was disrupted by rude, desperate people grabbing, pulling and displaying all kinds of rude behavior, all in the pursuit of purchasing gifts to give others for the holidays.  Now what does that say about the spirit of the season?  You always see television news stories about bad shopping behavior on Black Friday, but since when has it arrived in our little bucolic Baraboo?  Bah, humbug.  In my viewpoint, there's no excuse, no room for pushing and shoving on Black Friday or otherwise.  'Tis the season to bring out the best sides of ourselves and to have a grateful, generous and kind heart.  Let there be peace on Earth and in the shopping aisle.

Singing

The landscape is quieter at this time of year than a few months ago, but there is still plenty of singing to go around.  Just recently, I heard chickadees in conversation, making the characteristic call from which they get their name.  That lovely sound was a joyful noise to cut through the other sounds of my day.  There is much to sing about every day, but as we approach Christmas, it seems that music becomes even more important to me.  I love the music of Christmas, whether secular or sacred.  Give me a good dose of "Caroling, Caroling" along with "Angels We Have Heard on High," and, for me, all is "Joy to the World."

Daily Blessing

I've been really enjoying the posts that my Facebook friends have been publishing throughout November where they have been listing, one by one, the things for which they have to be grateful.  I've read about volunteer pursuits, families, nature, good food and more.  I think there is real power in making the decision to give thanks for one thing every single day.  And when you commit to broadcasting it to others, those expressions of thanks become even more tangible.  I thank my Facebook friends for inspiring me to see this month of Thanksgiving as one daily blessing after another.

Step by Step

Lately, I've been receiving amazing messages in surprising ways.  Each has to do with living life to its fullest as we receive it.  After singing with my church choir in a public concert a few weeks ago, a portion of the lyrics and melody continued to play over and over again in my head.  It took me a good week to realize that the lyrics weren't a nuisance, but rather, held an important message for my life:  "Step by step you'll lead me and I will follow you all of my days."  I tend to project forward, but these lyrics have helped keep me grounded in today.  My wonderful husband also held words of wisdom for me a couple of days ago.  I heard him say over the phone to a loved one that none of us knows what we're doing, but we do our best as we go along; life's an experiment; and when you learn to discern what you can and can't control, life gets easy.  Then, while talking with a dear friend, I heard her say about the sudden illness of a young relative that such experiences remind us to live in the moment.  I am grateful for these subtle and not-so-subtle reminders that life is indeed a gift and if we live with intention, moving step by step with gratitude, letting go of our worries, life gets easy.