I searched the New York Times Times this morning looking for an uplifting Christmas Story. Not an easy task. The war in Afghanistan is not going that well. No end in sight to the killing in Iraq. The Times reports this morning that Turkey did kill 150 rebels in Northern Iraq. (Wonder how that might be spun into a feel good Christmas story?) The effects of global warming seem to be accelerating at a much faster pace than anticipated. Aids and starvation continue to claim untold lives on the African continent. Adding to this toll of human suffering, it appears media consultants will be earning significantly less this presidential election year because of new caps the candidates will be imposing on their fees.
And as if their was not enough injustice in the world, I was unable to find the Wii my 11 year-old so desperately wants for Christmas this year. More specifically, I was unable to justify camping out in front of a Best Buy or Circuit City for 8-10 hours for the privilege of spending $350 on a toy. Somehow I suspect my 11-year-old will not appreciate my non-conformist stance on this issue.
So my search for a resonant Christmas story has lead me to reflect more closely on my own narrative. In the years since my divorce I have found myself alone on many a Christmas morning. In those first few years, when I didn’t have my children, their absence was the only presence I could feel. It was a huge void, impossible to ignore and difficult to overcome. Over the years, time would ease that sense of loss and together, my daughters and I redefined how we did things at Christmas. If I didn’t have my daughters Christmas morning, I would see them in the afternoon and we would celebrate Christmas together later in the day. In the years when I was sharing my life with someone special, we would build on this and find a way to make the Holiday special. Christmas Mass at the Old North Church, visit family together, sharing a special Christmas brunch or dinner. It was not the Christmas of my youth nor the Christmas I envisioned in an ideal world, but we made it special in our own way.
As my children get older the challenge for me is less about finding that perfect gift to put under the tree and more about finding a way to get them to appreciate the perfect present. Their is so much in their daily lives that distracts them from being in the present moment, from appreciating the abundance they have been blessed with. So many forces pulling and pushing at them, so much that would seduce them into believing that some other thing or possession will bring them enduring happiness; when all they will ever need to live a contented life is right here in this present moment. It has taken me a lifetime to discover this simple truth, and if I could have one wish come true this Christmas, it would be that somehow I could wrap up this gift and give my daughters this perfect present.
A very close friend of mine lost his Dad a few days ago. His Dad died quietly, painlessly, in his sleep. As I listened to the Rabbi and family members speak at the funeral, I was reminded that the most powerful legacy we leave behind is often found in the simplest of things. The content of our character is revealed in how we treat one another, in what we choose to commit ourselves to, in what and who we honor, in dedication and respect, in appreciation and sharing. The essence of who we are is articulated in what we treasure, how we love, and how we share the experiences we hold dear. In the end, this becomes our story, our narrative, our legacy to those we leave behind.
So as I reflect on this Christmas Season I find hope and comfort in small gestures, in simple encounters, in seemingly coincidental events that have touched me in some special way. A client who started a web site to sell fair trade goods and will donate the profits to help the elderly and orphans in Africa http://indabaworldwide.com/, sisters who have reached out to me with the right words and gestures at precisely the right moment, my band mates who took the time to share the Holiday Spirit inspiring, for me, one of the most spirited sessions we’ve ever had, the wisdom in the words of my teenage niece, the company of my daughters, a friend who found healing and hope in the camaraderie we share, a special friendship sustained through times of transition and turbulence, the lyrics of a song, words in a book, verses in prose, reminding me to embrace the grace contained in this prefect present.
So yes, if I pay attention, I don’t really have to look too far to find resonance in the words spoken some two thousand years ago. The evidence is right here before me. As Thomas Cahill writes, His teaching contain “an invitation to rise above the selfish concerns and petty cruelties we inflict upon one another..” an invitation to embrace kindness, hope, compassion, patience and forgiveness… however unfashionable, an invitation to celebrate the things that endure, that truly enrich our lives. It is in the embracing of this invitation that this narrative unfolds. It is here where I find (and share) the perfect present. Merry Christmas!
And as if their was not enough injustice in the world, I was unable to find the Wii my 11 year-old so desperately wants for Christmas this year. More specifically, I was unable to justify camping out in front of a Best Buy or Circuit City for 8-10 hours for the privilege of spending $350 on a toy. Somehow I suspect my 11-year-old will not appreciate my non-conformist stance on this issue.
So my search for a resonant Christmas story has lead me to reflect more closely on my own narrative. In the years since my divorce I have found myself alone on many a Christmas morning. In those first few years, when I didn’t have my children, their absence was the only presence I could feel. It was a huge void, impossible to ignore and difficult to overcome. Over the years, time would ease that sense of loss and together, my daughters and I redefined how we did things at Christmas. If I didn’t have my daughters Christmas morning, I would see them in the afternoon and we would celebrate Christmas together later in the day. In the years when I was sharing my life with someone special, we would build on this and find a way to make the Holiday special. Christmas Mass at the Old North Church, visit family together, sharing a special Christmas brunch or dinner. It was not the Christmas of my youth nor the Christmas I envisioned in an ideal world, but we made it special in our own way.
As my children get older the challenge for me is less about finding that perfect gift to put under the tree and more about finding a way to get them to appreciate the perfect present. Their is so much in their daily lives that distracts them from being in the present moment, from appreciating the abundance they have been blessed with. So many forces pulling and pushing at them, so much that would seduce them into believing that some other thing or possession will bring them enduring happiness; when all they will ever need to live a contented life is right here in this present moment. It has taken me a lifetime to discover this simple truth, and if I could have one wish come true this Christmas, it would be that somehow I could wrap up this gift and give my daughters this perfect present.
A very close friend of mine lost his Dad a few days ago. His Dad died quietly, painlessly, in his sleep. As I listened to the Rabbi and family members speak at the funeral, I was reminded that the most powerful legacy we leave behind is often found in the simplest of things. The content of our character is revealed in how we treat one another, in what we choose to commit ourselves to, in what and who we honor, in dedication and respect, in appreciation and sharing. The essence of who we are is articulated in what we treasure, how we love, and how we share the experiences we hold dear. In the end, this becomes our story, our narrative, our legacy to those we leave behind.
So as I reflect on this Christmas Season I find hope and comfort in small gestures, in simple encounters, in seemingly coincidental events that have touched me in some special way. A client who started a web site to sell fair trade goods and will donate the profits to help the elderly and orphans in Africa http://indabaworldwide.com/, sisters who have reached out to me with the right words and gestures at precisely the right moment, my band mates who took the time to share the Holiday Spirit inspiring, for me, one of the most spirited sessions we’ve ever had, the wisdom in the words of my teenage niece, the company of my daughters, a friend who found healing and hope in the camaraderie we share, a special friendship sustained through times of transition and turbulence, the lyrics of a song, words in a book, verses in prose, reminding me to embrace the grace contained in this prefect present.
So yes, if I pay attention, I don’t really have to look too far to find resonance in the words spoken some two thousand years ago. The evidence is right here before me. As Thomas Cahill writes, His teaching contain “an invitation to rise above the selfish concerns and petty cruelties we inflict upon one another..” an invitation to embrace kindness, hope, compassion, patience and forgiveness… however unfashionable, an invitation to celebrate the things that endure, that truly enrich our lives. It is in the embracing of this invitation that this narrative unfolds. It is here where I find (and share) the perfect present. Merry Christmas!
3 comments:
The love of Christmas is not found in a present purchased in a store, it is the unconditional love that flows between a father and a daughter; invisable to the eye, impossible to touch felt only by ones heart. This feeling is impossible to describe with words, it is a sence of being, a love like no other, safe - pure - true-timeless. It surpasses any year, any Holiday, and surpasses this life. Your gift of Christmas given to all who read this is as precious because, it too, of your heart; honest and true. I wish you know this truth of Christmas, this truth of life and love today and the whole year through. Thank you for this selfless Christmas gift. ps
Rising above selfishness
I never envisioned this new place in which I find myself. In my thoughts about the future I took for granted that my home would always be the center, the gathering ground, for family. I never thought it would be any other way. So I sit, alone on Christmas day, trying to come to a place of peace within myself as the sounds of laughter and sweet chaos echo in my memories of Christmases past. I feel, too, the loss of my sweet kitty companion most acutely at this time. My first Christmas in a decade without my furry friend. The last vestige of Christmases past, gone too.
Now I have my children, grown and assuming the mantle of hosting the clan, cooking together, planning together, without me, making decisions and choices without me, bustling about efficiently, with me just getting in the way of things. It was not their intention at all to make me feel unneeded, but rather a desire to protect me, to keep the dangerous flares of fibromyalgia from taking over my body…honorable, generous gestures. And yet, while my body appreciated the reprieve, my spirit felt a selfish, depressing sense of uselessness, which I have had to work to overcome.
How to truly live in this new place, is a challenge. I could bemoan my sense of loneliness, or I could just put on my big girl panties and realize it’s not all about me. My children are magnificent human beings, kind, generous, thoughtful, with great, big, loving hearts. My family is filled with faith in God, reflecting His goodness, freely giving out joyous love. Nothing, nothing is more precious.
So I sit alone, yes, but I am filled with gratitude to God for the treasures He has bestowed on me, and on my family. I am allowing that to fill the loneliness. He has brought change, life is different now, it is not the place I envisioned I’d be in, but my world is rich in what truly matters. And I am going back to my daughter’s house –where love waits to enfold me once again. A glorious place indeed.
Peace, joy and love - the spirit of Christmas - it is, for each of us, found in a different place, we just need to open the doors of our hearts and let it in.
I agree with ps. Thank you for this Christmas Gift. I often wonder how such a beautiful idea of a gift exchange can be tarnished as it has. I've come to believe in Christmas as I do in Thanksgiving. I thank God for giving us His son...for allowing His Holy Spirit become human and be born among us as one of us. Rejoice and have a merry Christmas.
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