Tis the season of Comfort and Joy—or is it? Simple Abundance tells us Joy is your soul’s purpose so I’m doing my best to infuse joy into my daily hustle and bustle, but it can get pretty tense when all the holiday preparations have to get crammed in around the ordinary tasks that still need to be accomplished.  So, I’ve decided to do only what I feel is authentic this year. Before I commit to another obligation, no matter how worthwhile the cause, that I’ve done it in the past so it is considered at “tradition,” or if it is an activity I’ve always wanted to explore, I check in with Myself to see if it is what I’m really supposed to be doing. Surprisingly, there are things that I easily let go of because they were not a priority for me. Some things, such as getting the Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving and decorating it over the rest of the weekend, are a tradition I want to maintain. The Christmas card and letter is also something I will maintain because it is the only time of year I reach out to some very special people. I’ve let go of doing lots of baking and lots of shopping. Instead I bake a few special treats and share them as gifts. I’ll buy a few thoughtful gifts and wrap them with love and care. I’ll create the rest of the gifts and think of those I love while I’m fashioning each item.  I’ve got the Christmas Spirit I hope you find yours too— 

 

I can’t believe it is December already. Certainly I know that November is always followed by December on the calendar, but I feel as though I’ve been careening from one event to another throughout the year. Some were spectacular, others tragic and many, many sweet occasions. To slow things down and get into the Spirit of Christmas I’m going to create gifts once again this year for friends and family. Only 20 more days until Christmas—hurry—hurry the commercials urge us to buy, buy, and buy. But I’m convinced you can’t find the real reason for the season at the mall. So, instead I’ll be “shopping” in my supply closet to find the materials I’ll need to fashion a distinctive wonder which I will box and ship before Christmas. Surrounded by love and infused with good will the present will let them know I may not be there physically, but they are with me and I am with them always in Spirit—

This week as I was sorting and sifting through over 30 years of Christmas decorations, I found myself consciously choosing ornaments for the tree that had special significance rather than making sure everything was used and every branch of the tree was adorned. The ornaments I placed in prominence on the tree included:  the red and green construction paper stocking our 2-year-old daughter made at her first day care and right next to it the picture of her grinning from a Teddy Bear picture frame, my husband’s red glass globe from 3^rd grade which he embellished with his name in silver glitter , my collection of  glass Hummel ornaments have survived toddler curiosity and moving across the country, bears, ballerinas, angels and since I’ve lived in Half Moon Bay versions of half moons can be found dangling from fragrant greenery. Over the years, I’ve picked ornaments on trips as a souvenir as well as a remembrance. I surprised my husband with one he’d talked about, but I’d never heard of before—Peter Pan’s alligator with the ticking clock in his stomach.  I made it a quest to find this glass vision and searched for several years when I finally found it in Christmas shop on a summer visit to Minnesota. Three pieces of Christopher Radko’s Peter Pan collection came home with me that summer:  Peter Pan, Wendy and, of course, the Alligator. As this year draws to a close I’m finding myself sorting through all sorts of feelings. I also want the world which I inhabit to reflect the calm and coordination I’m striving for in my inner world. That means I’ll be stepping back to evaluate where I want to concentrate my time and talents. I’m learning to say no when approached with requests. But, it’s a struggle to not succumb to the feelings of over whelm when there is so much I am attracted to do. Right now, I’ve got to remember that just as I choose only the most meaningful ornaments to put on the tree, it’s my choice to only DO the most meaningful projects to me at this moment in time. And that’s my plan for today— 

Simple Abundance tells us that the simpler we make our lives, the more abundant they become. Well, my life doesn’t seem to be simpler, but it certainly is abundant! Wednesday when I usually post in this space, I was preoccupied with other thoughts. I was totally immersed in having my daughter home for a long visit. We made plans to go shopping in the City after my check-up with my breast cancer surgeon. I’m sure my anxiety about that doctor visit also crowded out any thoughts about writing on Wednesday as well. I just wanted to get to that appointment, have her pronounce me “in absolute good health” and send us on our way to Nordstrom’s.  I have not reached the magic milestone where recurrence of the cancer is not always lingering in the back of my mind. Perhaps it will always be on the periphery of my thoughts. And as long as I’m making doctor appointments every six months I have too much physical evidence not to have it on my mind. Happily, my doctor examined me and pronounced me healthy at my appointment. My daughter and I went on to lunch and an afternoon of shopping surrounded by that wonderful pink bubble of good will and relief.  My life is not simple. I doubt that life is simple for anyone. It is messy, complicated and full of wonderful surprises.  I am so grateful for everything (simple and otherwise) and everyone in my life:  receiving a good report from the doctor, enjoying lunch and an afternoon of shopping with my daughter, sitting down to dinner with my daughter and husband, knowing that the rest of my family is healthy and I have the opportunity to tell them I love them and how grateful I am to have them in my life. I’m grateful for this amazing life I’ve been given and those I’m privileged to share it with. Thank you—

I’ve just completed leadership training with Simple Abundance author Sarah Ban Breathnach. During our incredibly moving and wonderful weekend we studied the Graces which are the basis for the book’s philosophy:  Gratitude, Simplicity, Order, Harmony, Beauty and Joy. I’d like to share something I wrote about Gratitude this week…

A French proverb tells us that “Gratitude is the heart’s memory.”

I am grateful for the first person who ever honestly, inexplicably and amazingly believed in my talent/gift/ability to write. How did she know? I am convinced she knew because she saw inside my soul. “I can’t wait to read your book,” she had said to me.  Her tone held encouragement, admiration and confidence.  She spoke with such faith of my dreams as reality and a foregone conclusion.

It was the end of October 1983. My father had just passed away and I was on a personal retreat at a small convent. There was a communal kitchen with huge loaves of brown bread and enormous jars of peanut butter, a six-slice toaster and refrigerator with a few apples and the pint of Half & Half I’d brought for my tea. On the other side of the room opposite the Formica table and eight chairs was a saggy dark green couch with a stripped orange and brown afghan adorning the back cushions. The blanket, no doubt, was a donation from the Ladies Circle.  The best part about the sofa was that is was positioned in front of a large brick fireplace with an ample supply of wood.

I sat on one end of the couch watching the flames dance up the chimney. She sat on the other end; her plump sausage fingers buried in a wootle of baby blue yarn while the long silver knitting needles fenced at her direction. Her Clairol enhanced hair was pulled into a loose bun on the top of her head. She had a yellow No. 2 pencil stuck in it, a habit she’d picked up from work. I can still see her bent down and digging in a brown grocery bag looking for a ball of bright blue yarn to introduce to the dance her fingers were choreographing.

 I exchanged a pleasant hello, but turned to stare into the flames and hoped I wouldn’t have to start a conversation. She chatted without provocation about her life, only pausing once in a while to allow me to answer a cursory amount. I told her more than I’d realized when I left to go. She was a cook at Woolworth’s lunch counter she told me and this was her annual vacation from her husband and five children.  Usually she was at work in her white shoes and apron with black polyester dress at 7 am Monday thru Friday and 5 am on Sat and Sunday. But it was her birthday and she was treating herself. She talked about baking apple pies because this was apple harvest time. I said my favorite and dad’s was the French Apple my mother made. But I didn’t know when she’d feel like making it since he was gone. I talked aoubt how I was going to school and would graduate next June. How we were on a waiting list for a baby. How I wanted to be a writer. How I longed to write something people would want to read. And she kept knitting and listening.

I got up to go to my room, my cell really; collect my PJ’s. Then go down the hall to the shared bathroom to take a long soak and have a good cry. She looked up from her half finished scarf and fixed her tender dark brown eyes on me and her words washed over me, “I’m looking forward to reading your book.” I have to honor that faith—