I am still waiting for Santa. I know it isn't fashionable...not even rational I suppose, but I am still waitng for Santa to come. Santa, with his eight tiny reindeer and sleighful of toys for good girls and boys. Yes, that Santa. The one who embodies the magic of Christmas. I said magic, yes. That is really what I'm waiting for.
Don't get me wrong. I believe in Santa Claus. He's never let me down. He comes in the night when I am sound asleep, so I've never seen him. But he always leaves something special under the tree. Even if I don't have a tree, he finds a place to put something special, just for me, something that no one else would ever think of giving me. Santa knows me.
Perhaps I am delusional. Perhaps it is all a delicious imagining. Maybe it is just a left-over remnant of my childhood I just can't let go. But, dang it, I believe it Santa and I will never stop. There is one main reason, a reason that rings true every Christmas season.
Santa believes in me.
It is a couple days after Christmas and I am still waiting. I beleive he came. I can feel it everywhere, yet I cannot find what he left me this year. Magic, Santa. I am waiting for magic. Make everything happy and bright. You can do.
If only we believe. I believe.
Aha! Now I found it. It was here all the time. The magic Santa brought was just waiting for me to find it. Who knew? All I had to do was open my eyes and my heart and see and feel the spirit of Christmas and Santa. Its always there...if we just remember to be still and listen.
Evergreen Cemetery, Riverside CA
"When a task is once begun,
Never leave it 'til its done.
Be the task great or small,
do it well or not at all."
I am good at starting things. I am good at finishing things. Its the in between that I have trouble with. Somewhere in the middle. Doubts arise. Fears cloud the skies. I begin with enthusiasm. I wrap it up nicely. But the in-between. The day to day. The grunt work. There is where I struggle. So I am working on the carry through. I am setting my eyes on the prize and gonna plug along.
Nothing happens unless you do something....something in between....in between the start and the finish. If you read the headstones in any cemetery, there is inscribed a start date and an end date with a dash in between. Its the dash in between that is the something I am thinking about. The task here is living. Do it well. And don't leave until its done.
All I want for Christmas...for anytime...if for all the madness to stop. Another shooting, this one at an elementary school in rural Connecticut. Where will it all end? What brings people to this? No, guns do not kill people, people do. But come on. Imagine there were no guns. I fear these demented, tortured souls would still find a way to wreak their havoc.
Christmastime. Things like this should not be happening. And of course not just at Christmas, but at anytime. The madness goes on and we watch and we are dumbstruck. We sit in utter bewilderment at how these things happen. And before we can even begin to come to terms with these shootings, another one occurs.
And the world stops. And watches. And wonders.
Where is God is all of this? It is not God who does these things. Like guns, God does not kill people, people do.
All I want for Christmas? The end of the madness. Too much to ask for? I don't think so. Hands folded once again.
The clouds of yesterday part to the sun of today.
I came across a gold necklace that someone gave me for Christmas thirty three years ago. I used to wear it all the time. I thought I would always wear it. It is thin and nicely molded and thought it would never go out of fashion. But over time, it seemed to not be "me" anymore and I stopped wearing it. That might also be because I haven't seen or heard from the person who gave it to me in at least seventeen years. It was realtionship that was, I thought, like a familial one...but even family ties can be broken.
I put it on today and wore it to church. I didn't think much about it and when I came home, when I changed my shirt, I took it off and laid it on the shelf near where I had found it. It is reimder of a time long ago and a relationship that did not survive all the changed and growth spurts that are called living or life.
It is a sourvenir of who I was back then. I take it out every now and then and remember. I think about the person to who gave it to me, and I feel a twinge of sadness, but no regrets now. Some relationships last forever and are made of gold. Some appear golden, but are just fool's gold.
Gung ho? We got it down!
Ever have times when your gung just isn't ho? I mean, when you just are not feeling extremely enthusiastic and enterprising, sometimes to excess, as a dictionary I checked defines it. The term gung ho comes from pidgin English, from Mandarin Chinese kung work + ho together . Enthusiastically. Enterprisingly. Working. Together. Maybe its more the gung than the ho in this instance, but sometimes, well, they just aren't working...together...or apart.
So what do you do when you find this happening in your experience? Me, I guess I retreat. I sit back a bit and wait to see what developes. Sometimes this lack of gung and ho manifests in inertia or, worse, a bad case of the flu. The latter is how it manifested for me this week. Down I went, just as I was gunging along and somewhat in the flow of ho.
The blessing here is that I know it is not a permanent thing. Even now, as I get ready to take yet another nap after taking cold and flu medications and drinking delicious homemade chicken soup brought to me by my neighbor, I know I will rise again! I will find my enthusiasm. I will again feel enterprising. I will be ready to work particularly on the work that supports my inner artist and makes a safe and supportive atmosphere in which I can create. In fact, as I write this, I feel the gung ho in me beginning to rise again.
What do I do when my gung isn't ho? I rest. I reflect. Sometimes I talk to my little animal companions. They are always gung ho, which reminds me how much we can learn from our dogs.
Then I get up and I gung again until it all comes to ho.