As I travel on the island, I encounter many people who naturally respond to me as I've interviewed a few thousand people in my lifetime. One of these people was Mac, whom I met one day this December at Granny's. Mac tells me, "I'm just trying to stay out of the way." He also complains of his eyes, which ache. Because Sam and I stayed for a week in San Francisco with Meir Schneider, a man born blind who cured his sight and even drives a car, I knew a few things to tell him - tricks I'll share at Nirvana when my yoga classes begin there in January.
I've also met a couple more people who tell me how overcommercialized the season is now, compared to the years before credit cards. "There's no Jesus left in Christmas," says one lady. "They've taken him out of it!" Another lady says: "I wish it was like the 50s. We dressed up then. You just gave what you could; none of this going in debt."
I myself have fallen prey to negativity regarding the Christmas season, so I listen compassionately, feeling like I am listening to an older version of myself, words I knew as my own long ago. Today, I am absolutely rejoicing in the season. The transformation could happen to anyone.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Creating Intention, Creating New Possibilities
Outside Giraffe, we spot the dynamic sight of another boy just about the age of my own child. The kids begin playing with one another, talking quite a bit about the wonders generated by the Lego company, their colorful clothing glowing in the sunlight of an early winter afternoon on Vashon. The boy's father Ken and I begin to talk. Ken came from a background where he celebrates Christmas; his wife celebrates her Jewish heritage and Hannukah. For this father, the holiday season becomes a time to get intentional about how he really wants to celebrate and he watches as this time period becomes easier and more satisfying.
"I'm really feeling a level of curiosity and acceptance as well as clarity about what is important to me now."
He speaks of how he once felt, as he did similar events every year, that he was coasting. His talk and gentle company reminds me of how the holiday season is becoming a time of creation for me. My son and I are living near a woman and a man whose grandkids live far away, and these two neighbors have become like family to us. We delight in visiting their houses and in serving them as we can, and they do the same for us. We decorate a huge Blue Spruce tree with ornament after ornament, and illuminate it all with lights. We share food and stories and the warmth of the season, and both my son Sam and I are so grateful for their company.
I am beginning to see how the human heart expands and expands and expands, and how its true nature is flexibility, openness and the acceptance of grace, and the holidays give us a perfect time to see this beauty in action.
"I'm really feeling a level of curiosity and acceptance as well as clarity about what is important to me now."
He speaks of how he once felt, as he did similar events every year, that he was coasting. His talk and gentle company reminds me of how the holiday season is becoming a time of creation for me. My son and I are living near a woman and a man whose grandkids live far away, and these two neighbors have become like family to us. We delight in visiting their houses and in serving them as we can, and they do the same for us. We decorate a huge Blue Spruce tree with ornament after ornament, and illuminate it all with lights. We share food and stories and the warmth of the season, and both my son Sam and I are so grateful for their company.
I am beginning to see how the human heart expands and expands and expands, and how its true nature is flexibility, openness and the acceptance of grace, and the holidays give us a perfect time to see this beauty in action.
Henry's Wisdom
I share with DeAnn the quote from Henry Miller regarding life, and our meanderings within it. Miller describes a scene where the gift of Life could be presented on a silver platter with a silver top concealing it. When the top is removed - viola - a piece of dung is exposed. "The monstrous thing," he writes, "is not that men have creates roses out ofthis dung heap, but that, for some reason or other, they should want roses. For some reason or other man looks for the miracle...."
Is not everything about Life the miracle?
During this time of year, when images of angels find me in the pharmacy's card and book racks, when lights beam from many porches, when sails flow with colors of gold and green and red and when people give and give and give, I for one feel attuned to the miracle of Life, and the infinite potential to give and give and give again.
Is not everything about Life the miracle?
During this time of year, when images of angels find me in the pharmacy's card and book racks, when lights beam from many porches, when sails flow with colors of gold and green and red and when people give and give and give, I for one feel attuned to the miracle of Life, and the infinite potential to give and give and give again.
A true Christmas wish
Over at VIA again, my young son, 9, plays with his eyes, studying the ameythist and intricate earrings and necklaces, and I head to the glass case where before a great mirror, a woman named DeAnn is working. I tell her I'm asking Vashonites about their Christmas and holiday experience, and getting curious about what they're wanting this holiday season for themselves and for others.
DeAnn begins with the lovely answer of "Peace. Peace is probably what everyone needs - that and continued health." Then DeAnn adds: "I hope everyone can let the love into their heart."
All of this feels so good to listen to, and so true, and after all, I've just heard the crystal bowls vibrating here for a couple of hours and my mind is on world peace and gentleness between all beings. And then, DeAnn says the unexpected: "What I also want," she confides, "Is for my dogs to stop pooping in the house."
We roar with laughter. Even my son jumps in. Yes, bring us all those high concepts and those gentle feelings of connection, but can we also find a way to make peace with our animals' waste (and dare I say it: our own)?
Her request reminds me of Henry Miller's thoughts in his once-banned book of the 1960s called Tropic of Cancer.
DeAnn begins with the lovely answer of "Peace. Peace is probably what everyone needs - that and continued health." Then DeAnn adds: "I hope everyone can let the love into their heart."
All of this feels so good to listen to, and so true, and after all, I've just heard the crystal bowls vibrating here for a couple of hours and my mind is on world peace and gentleness between all beings. And then, DeAnn says the unexpected: "What I also want," she confides, "Is for my dogs to stop pooping in the house."
We roar with laughter. Even my son jumps in. Yes, bring us all those high concepts and those gentle feelings of connection, but can we also find a way to make peace with our animals' waste (and dare I say it: our own)?
Her request reminds me of Henry Miller's thoughts in his once-banned book of the 1960s called Tropic of Cancer.
Harmonizing at VIA - morning on Vashon Island
Today, the morning of the 22nd, I joined a handful of Vashonites for a crystal bowl tuning session at VIA. Apparently the sounds coming from these bowls reflected similar sounding circles all around the world. We played the bowls, holding covered drumstick-like instruments and caressing the sides of white crystal bowls. Sound rose and rose and rose from within the little building. Signs on the mat between us spoke of our intention to send peace and acceptance and good wishes to others all around the room, the island, the area, the nation and the entire world. Candle flames burned within the bowls. Adults and kids alike came to the session. Some stayed. Some left. Perhaps 50 people came through in the entire morning, meditating, humming, tuning, stretching and just breathing. I felt the sound rising up from the bowls, and noticed the meditative peace illuminating the faces of the other participants.
The sound rang in my ears long, long afterward as I walked out into the sunlight of a late December morning on Vashon Island. How good it is to be alive, and to spend a bit of time thinking of others in a conscious space, and to allow that thinking to span far past self and family and even neighborhood and country. Over in the library a bit of the same spirit prevailed, as Vashonites send emails and computer correspondence to their loved ones. My belly rang happily with a gift of pizza and a ham and cheese croissant for my son, plus a little Christmas tree cookie which we shared out in the sunlight. Ah, late December morning, Vashon Island, bells ringing, sleigh bells singing.
The sound rang in my ears long, long afterward as I walked out into the sunlight of a late December morning on Vashon Island. How good it is to be alive, and to spend a bit of time thinking of others in a conscious space, and to allow that thinking to span far past self and family and even neighborhood and country. Over in the library a bit of the same spirit prevailed, as Vashonites send emails and computer correspondence to their loved ones. My belly rang happily with a gift of pizza and a ham and cheese croissant for my son, plus a little Christmas tree cookie which we shared out in the sunlight. Ah, late December morning, Vashon Island, bells ringing, sleigh bells singing.
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