The Dream Time

So here we are coming up on "the ides of January" and the question is this: how many of you are struggling to keep the New Year's Resolutions you made or have given up on them all together? Sure, the idea of a "New Year, New Me" has a nice ring to it and certainly energizes us to make some positive changes in our lives. However, I have to wonder whose bright idea it was to take a perfectly good concept and have it become just one more cross for us to bear? I'm sure that fitness centers, diet plans, and advertising agencies are seeing their resolutions being fulfilled very nicely.

Whenever I am challenged by the ideas and concepts of the man-made world, I return to nature for lessons and answers to guide me. Not only have I found them in my garden and in the cycles of nature, but also in my animal relations and the teachings of my ancestors. For hundreds of years the ancient ones, the grandmothers especially, would point to brother bear to teach us about how to use the winter months. Bear hibernates. They called this The Dream Time. Bear goes into his den and dreams of spring, of new birth and new growth, of cubs and honey combs to come. Likewise, the native people would take to their long houses and huts and use the time to repair hunting and gardening tools, and prepare for the coming of spring. But they would also use the time to teach the children. Gathered around the communal fires, children listened as grandmothers and grandfathers told the teaching stories that would guide the lives of these children when they were grown and had families of their own. They were told the creation stories, the lessons from their animal relations that taught things like honesty, kindness, community, commitment, the importance of family and respect for every living thing. They also learned about Creator, or God, or The Great Mystery, or whatever they called that which gave them life. When spring arrived, they greeted it rested, renewed and wrapped in the love of their families, their village and The One Who Created Them.

What a lovely idea! Why not take this time as our Dream Time? Why not use this time to dream of what we would like to achieve, or change, or improve, or create? Taking our time as we repair ourselves from the hustle and bustle of the holiday season just passed with gentleness, love and respect will get better results than beating ourselves up. Making a plan goes much easier with a hot cup of tea and a rested mind. Take good care of yourself by feeding yourself healthy foods after the extra holiday indulgences. Repair your body, mind and spirit. I know we can't hibernate in our caves until spring like brother bear -  we still have to go out into the world every day and face the cold, the snow and the jobs. How much easier would that be, however, if we approached it from a place of renewal?

So in my cave I have stocked up on books to read (thank you to the person who gave me a Barnes & Noble gift card), the ingredients for healthy meals, empty journals and plenty of pens and pencils. I have all that I need to repair the tears, heal the soul and challenge the mind. I am joining my brother bear in The Dream Time, dreaming of the new me who will greet the spring. Won't you join me? There's plenty of room around the fire.

And so it is.

The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread

Recently I was working on a yarn project and was having a problem getting it to be the size that I wanted. Then I remembered YouTube. I got on and typed in the project I was working on and, voila! There were instructions and examples of exactly what I needed. I said out loud, "wow, YouTube is the best thing since sliced bread!"

Now, do you ever have a moment like that where you blurt out a phrase or saying and then wonder to yourself, "where did that come from?" So often we use these catch phrases that we picked up from someone at sometime and don't even realize we have adopted them for our own. In this case I had to stop and think about who I knew that used to say that. Then it dawned on me that it was a friend I had years ago who used it whenever she discovered some new product or device that made her life easier.

So I sat with the image of "sliced bread" for a while (bear with me, folks, this will all make sense soon). Our grandmothers, if not our mothers, used to make their own bread. They would pull that warm, wonderful bead from the oven and there was nothing better than to slice off a slab and smother it in butter or jam. There was something about a loaf of home made bread that said  things like ":home, family, Mom, Grandma, childhood, etc". If you think about it, that bread was probably made from locally, organically  grown grains, with no preservatives. Then along came the idea of mass production and sliced bread. As more and more women entered the workforce, especially during the war when women took over the men's jobs while they were at the front, new devices and time saving ideas made sense.

I recently purchased a loaf of bread from a farmers' market. It was still warm in the wrapper. It smelled heavenly. I frequent this lady's stand whenever I go because I know that she uses all home grown ingredients. When I warm it up in the oven and slice off a piece ... it's like Sunday at my house when I was little and my Mom would heat up the fresh loaf of Italian bread to go with the Sunday  pasta. It makes me remember all those good things like home, family, good, safe, etc.

Sometimes, like with that YouTube video, I am amazed and thankful for the help. Other times I feel as if technology is pulling me away from things that play an important part in my life. The more time I spend on Facebook, the less time I spend taking a walk, playing with my cats, watching the birds do their daily aerial ballet. The more I use convenience foods, the less healthy food I am putting in my body. So these days I am being a little more aware of the next new thing coming down the pike. If it makes my life easier or is helpful without my having to sacrifice health or happiness, so be it. If not, I'll let it pass to the next person. Some things never go out of style. Those are the things I cherish.

And so it is.

Should Auld Acquaintances Really Be Forgotten?

I can't believe that I have been singing the same song every New Year's Eve for my entire life and never once stopped to ask myself what it means. For instance, who is an "auld" acquaintance and should or should they not be forgotten?

In a recent blog on the Huffington Post by David Tomar, he writes: "Simply stated, Auld Lang Syne is about the endurance of friendship, cherishing the past even as we look forward to the future ..."

As I look back on this past year, I am grateful for the friendships that are in my life, some old and some brand new, but I also recognize that as we move through life we often decide to take a different road and sometimes there are people who just can't make that trip with us. For whatever reason, we have to let them go. Even if time passes and we realize that we have stopped thinking about them as much as we used to, we should not feel guilty. Rather, we wish them the best and move on.

I think an "auld acquaintance " can also be those ideas and habits that no longer serve us. With the long awaited Planetary Birthday last December 2012 behind us, many people have used that as a catalyst to re-examine their lives and rearrange their priorities. Maybe we've decided that we are no longer happy with our careers and are striking out on our own. Maybe those of us who have seen 50 come and go, or even 60, have decided to redefine what aging means and give it a new face, a new look and a new feeling. We are throwing out the beliefs and conditioning that defined our parents' generation. Sometimes that also means letting go of old traditions and "the way we've always done it" so we can create new traditions that celebrate who we are now.  We look back in gratitude and understanding to what came before, and we let it go with love.

I always like to do a little ceremony on New Year's Eve. I take slips of paper and write down all the people, events and habits that I want to say good-bye to. Then I put them in a clay bowl and take them out on the porch where I light them and watch the papers burn to ashes as the smoke rises up into the sky. When the fire goes out I sprinkle the ashes into the wind (Note: up where I live "into the wind" can be howling and cold. In that case I rip up all the papers into tiny scraps and flush them, sending them out to sea). I always feel so much lighter and the coming dawn is filled with so much more promise when I do this.

What kind of ceremony or special event can you do to bid good bye  to "auld acquaintances" that will honor them and while still letting them move on? It's not so much what you do but the intention you do it with.

I wish you all, my dear  friends, a happy, healthy, abundant 2014.

And so it is.

Do You See What I See?

I grew up in New York City. Even though Christmas in New York was as magical as a place can get, the rest of the year was so "real" it sometimes hurt. Magic was the last word I would have used to describe it. Once I was old enough to understand terms like "Wall Street," and,  "Madison Avenue," I turned in my I-Believe-In-Magic button and entered The Real World.

Fast forward about 30 years. I'm living in the country, in a small town where magic is everywhere, everyday, if we just look for it. I see it in the changing of the seasons up close and personal. I see it in the antics of squirrels, birds, rabbits, otters and other members of my extended family. I see it in the sap from the maple trees as it drips into the metal pail at the end of winter and the first pussy willows that burst forth to announce the coming of spring. I take my grandchildren for walks in the woods to look for fairies and go on adventures. I see magic everywhere.

This Christmas I celebrate the magic of my first great-grandson and the knowledge that his being here in my life is the result of thousands of ancestors who loved, and that is magical all by itself. As I look up at the stars on a frigid winter night they seem all the brighter for the cold, and the glow of the moon bathes me in peace. This, too, is magic. 

I see magic everywhere I look. The key to seeing magic, I've found, is to actually look for it. Look for it in the first snowflake that touches you when you walk out the door, or the first chirp outside your window. Look for it in the first cloud of your breath as it meets the cold air, or in the gaze of your cat (or dog) when they look up at you with unconditional love. 

So this is my gift to all of you this year ... I'm giving you a key of your own to find the magic that is all around you as well. All you have to do is believe it will be there, and you will find it. If you need a little help at first, just pretend you're 5 years old again. 

Merry Christmas. And so it is.

Let It Snow

I have one of those knock-you-down winter colds. My head aches, my sinuses feel like they are black and blue, I'm freezing one minute and hot the next, and my whole body just aches (even my hair hurts). Lucky for me there is no where I have to be today and, even if there was, we are having our first heavy snow of the season. It has been snowing off and on for over 24 hours and the winds are supposed to pick up later today. What isn't closed has been cancelled.

Coming as it has right before Christmas, this cold combined with the weather is forcing me to stop all the pre-holiday hustle and bustle and just be. That's not so easy when there are gifts still to be bought, a menu still to be planned and bought for, cards that still need to be bought and sent out (yes, I'm still old fashioned in that respect). My head has other plans. It says I need to be still so it will stop pounding. Being still also means my thoughts as well. No sense sitting still just so I can work myself up in a frenzy worrying about what isn't getting done. So I am looking at this cold as a gift, an afternoon to just be. Watching the snow falling silently outside the window, a woodpecker working on the suet in the cage hanging next to the feeder, a cup of ginger-lemon tea at my side and a warm cat on my lap ... not a bad prescription to have to follow.

Another gift this cold has given me is the opportunity to be a Mom to the child inside of me. I'm watching a stack of old Christmas movies (yes even the children's movies) and trying to remember the awe and magic of a child's Christmas. I've been having a problem "feeling it" this year. Maybe this cold is reminding me that we all need to nurture the child inside us during the holiday season and remember to gift ourselves with love, patience and compassion. Sometimes we grow ups get so buried in the events of everyday life that we forget to look for the magic that is always around us if we just stand still long enough to connect with it.

So today I lift my cup (of tea) in salute to the magic of  being still, of believing in Christmas, and in the 5 year old inside me that is thinking popcorn would go really well with my move. Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown!

And so it is.

Call Me Irresponsible

If you were to ask any five people who have known me for a while what some of my best qualities are, I would bet that every one of them would have "responsible" somewhere on their list. I am the person who shows up early to church to make the coffee and set out the treats for coffee hour. I'm the person who volunteers to set up and tear down for meetings, programs, and parties. I am the first to volunteer for whatever the group is doing. In short, I see a need and I fill it.

This is certainly not anything to be ashamed of. On the contrary, it is commendable to be responsible in an age where so many people and institutions refuse to do so anymore if in fact they ever did. It is also a wonderful example to set for the younger generation ... except ...

...except when you let it take over your life. Somewhere along the line my sense of responsibility began to become obsessive. I started taking responsibility for everything without allowing anyone else to step up and do their share. My mothers words, "if you want something done right, do it yourself," became my mantra. And as everyone knows, the more you become Fallback Position #1, the more people will just assume that you'll keep being the one to do it all, and that not only keeps them from taking responsibility themselves but eventually wears yourself pretty thin.

The other day I had had enough. I totally refused to be responsible for anything. I stayed in my bathrobe all day. I left a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. I let the laundry go for another day (I live alone and figure as long as I have enough undies and outfits for four days of work and church on Sunday, I'm good). I put on Christmas music and dragged out the Christmas decorations. When people called me to see if I was available for this or that, I politely refused and told them that I was taking a Mental Health Day. I also advised them that I was confident in their talent and ability to do it on their own. I drank spiced tea and ate shortbread cookies and hugged a teddy bear. It was the best day ever.

Today I came across this post on my Facebook page. It was written by author and Angel Therapy guide Doreen Virtue:

1. Release the belief that you're responsible for everyone and everything.
2. Let go of perfection.
3. Ask for help and accept help from others.
4. Focus on what's important, and the rest of the day will take care of itself.

That sounds like a pretty good recipe for life to me. How about you?

And so it is.l

In Praise of Hot Water

It was Murphy's Law at my house on Wednesday evening. I came home from work to discover that the hot water heater in my apartment had decided that this was the perfect time to move on to the Promised Land (or wherever old water heaters go). My building manager said she didn't know there were any that old still operating in any of the apartments. I could have lived without the reference to age. 

So here I was with seven people coming for dinner the next day and no hot water. Our maintenance man had gone hunting for the long Thanksgiving weekend. Fortunately my daughter had come over and done much of the cooking ahead of time so it was basically just the turkey to stuff and put in the oven. I figured we could boil water and wash the dishes the old fashioned way until Friday when they would get a plumber to install a new water heater.

Then came the issue of bathing. I boiled some water and carried it into the bathroom. After I poured it in the sink I went to raise the heat in the bathroom (each room has a baseboard heater with its own thermostat) and, low and behold ... no heat in the bathroom. Like the water heater, the baseboard heater crackled and creaked before it went to live with the spirit of the old water heater. Okay. I was a Girl Scout once. I know how to camp out. I carried my bath things into the kitchen where, thankfully, there was heat. I boiled more water and bathed in the kitchen. It wasn't pretty, but it got the job done.

As all of this was going on, instead of getting myself riled up over something I couldn't possibly control, I started to laugh. I thought to myself, "No wonder they only took baths on a Saturday night ... it was too much work to boil all that water and drag the tub into the kitchen to keep warm." The next day after dinner we made an assembly line: boil water, wash dishes, wipe dishes and put them away, boil more water, next batch of dishes, etc. We were laughing about how we felt like pioneer women. It struck me, then, that this is what the words "family" and "community" mean. This is how our ancestors lived, each dependent on one another, doing what had to be done to accomplish tasks we now zip through in mere minutes instead of the hours it took them. I realized that our modern way of life was built on the work and determination of those that came before us and I wondered, sadly, how much of that feeling of family and community we've lost as a result.

The next day someone sent me a Native American proverb on Facebook. The closing line was: "you are the result of the love of thousands." Have you ever stopped and thought of how many people came before you since the beginning of time to produce you right here, right now, in this moment? In this life of dishwashers, and indoor plumbing,and hot water, and heaters? I did that day. It was a moment filled with lots of humility and gratitude. 

I don't think I'll stop using a dishwasher or enjoying the benefits of a hot bath in a heated bathroom, but when I offer my daily prayer of thanks and gratitude, you can be sure that I will now include thanks for the love and hard work of the thousands that produced me, and I will never experience the joy of hot water running over my hands again without thinking of them.

And so it is.