May the road rise to meet you, and me.

"... he allowed himself to be swayed by his conviction that human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but that life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves."
~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

As 2007 inches ever closer I find myself more and more intrigued by this quote. I'm not typically one for annual resolutions, although last year's vow to floss daily has worked out far better than I or my dentist expected. Instead I am confused about everything but this: I am looking for inspiration, the one item not for sale this Christmas. Isn't inspiration the seed of change? Of a rebirth? The trouble is you can't google it, so I have to find it myself. (OK I suppose you can google it and if a premier software tool is your kind of inspiration then you are in luck.)

My quest has already begun: I quit the job and moved back to my roots. The next step is this crazy South America trek I keep talking about but have yet to make a reality. My quasi-resolution is this: to buy the ticket and take the ride, as my man Hunter S. Thompson so eloquently wrote. Once I'm there I'll simply follow my road wherever it leads.

WINTER SOLSTICE

Tomorrow is the Winter Solstice. I was visiting Tommy, Tricia and Dakota earlier this week and they were planning to celebrate the shortest day of the year with a Native American tradition. I love those farmers; they know and respect our Earth so instinctively. It inspired me to do a little online research myself. It's not just the shortest the day of year:

"The Winter Solstice marks a crucial part of the natural cycle. In a real sense, the sun begins anew its journey toward longer days, times of new growth and renewal of the world once again. In a spiritual sense, it is a reminder that in order for a new path to begin, the old one must end and that spring will come again."
http://www.equinox-and-solstice.com/html/winter_solstice.html

So take a moment to listen to the quiet of the world on its shortest day. Let the darkness without embrace you in its mystery and let the light within you shine through. 'Tis the season of love and hope, regardless of religion! PEACE.

Happy Birthday Sam & Beethoven!

My friend's son Sam turns 2 years old today, and somewhere in La Jolla, CA a cowboy themed party is taking shape. (His father is a Cowboys fan so I'm guessing on the theme; could be Blue's Clues.) It turns out that today is also Beethoven's birthday. He was born 236 years ago and yet his influence rages on. Granted Belushi did his hilarious Beethoven bit on SNL a long time ago, but everyone knows the opening bars of the Fifth Symphony, the exhiliration of "Ode to Joy" at the end of the Ninth (and he was totally deaf by then!). Beethoven only composed one opera, Fidelio, but let's not hold that against him. If you're a DJ, dust off an old LP of Classical Music's Greatest Hits and spin some Beethoven into the mix tonight, and I don't mean the Fifth of Beethoven from Saturday Night Fever. I mean try something new, break the mold like he did. That goes for Sammy too! Mark your own path in life little man, and always follow the music in your heart.

Smart Cookie

According to her mother, Dakota just knew to dunk her cookie in the milk. Talk about following your instincts to a beautiful place.

Viva Gandhi

“If we are to teach real peace in this world, and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with the children.” Mahatma Gandhi

An 11th grader at a high school in Montgomery County, PA, pretty close to where Tommy and Tricia’s farm is located, where my 1 ½ year old niece is growing up, walked into a crowded hallway this morning and killed himself with an AK-47 rifle. I am so sick and sad about this I don’t know what the hell to do or say. My father had triple bypass surgery the day of the Columbine School shootings – April 20, 1999, a horrible day, but also a wonderful day because he survived and seven years later we just celebrated his 75th birthday. I don’t think I have ever resolved the conflicting emotions of that afternoon. We were finally “relaxing” in the ICU waiting room, the surgery completed, when my sister turned on the TV and any shred of innocence I perhaps maintained was gone forever.

Can I even find solace in the fact that today only one person, one deeply troubled teenager who saw no solution to his pain other than killing himself, was hurt today? Not really, since I can barely imagine what the kids who witnessed so tragic an event must be going through right now. I admit openly that I am not a fan of guns. Why the hell any civilian in the United States feels the need or desire to own such a weapon is truly beyond me. Do I blame the parents? I don’t think so. Wouldn’t their son have found another way to end his life if the guns weren’t present? Here was the child’s father being informally* interviewed on the news tonight, looking shaken and shocked. He just lost his son and he was devastated. My empathy was running rampant; of course he never meant for this to happen. Who ever means for something like this to happen? And yet he owned the gun. It may have been under double lock and key but his son found the key.

Is it the Dad’s fault? Our laws allow for him to possess this immediate, indisputable distributor of death; so no, it’s not his fault. It is all of our faults. People with guns kill people and people who live in a society where the ownership of guns is lawful, whether we agree with these laws or not, are equally responsible for the consequences.

The freaking Christmas lights outside the window seem to mock me tonight. Peace on Earth? Fat chance. And yet still I believe. I hope. And I will never, ever, own or touch a gun in my life. I have never made, nor felt the need to make, that vow before but I am making it now. I may only be one person, but I suppose we need to do this thing one at a time.

*By informal I mean that he was simply standing on his front lawn, a bouquet of microphones in front of his face.

For more details about this story: http://www.philly.com/.

Christmas Lights: The Great Nonverbal Debate

Last Wednesday evening my mom and I went to the library. I had not visited the local library in probably 15 years and was not surprised to find that, aside from the 8 computers now taking prominent position on the first floor, the place remained the same as it did when I was a star pupil at Atlantic Avenue Elementary. It was even story night, an old favorite of mine, and the exuberant shrieks of laughter from the downstairs children's section were proof that it continues to be a popular weekly. My mom suggested I revisit the stacks that first nourished my love of reading but the librarian on duty - who could not have been more than 16 - advised against it. "They're going crazy down there; I wouldn't go if I were you." Another time then, perhaps when my niece is in town.

Mom hit the mystery section while I tried, in vain, to remember the name of an obscure Salman Rushdie book on Nicaragua that a friend recommended. Their fancy online catalogues were no help either, so instead I checked out a novel, Arthur & George by Julian Barnes, that promised to be a good but quick read. (It was.)

As we drove towards home my mother came up with the great idea that we drive around the neighborhoods and look at the Christmas lights, which at last brings me to the point of this post. I try not to be a judgmental person, but when it comes to Christmas lights, and the miscellaneous lawn decorations some choose to display, I think that all of us have rather strong opinions. Some truly embrace the neon manger scene, or the Santa and sleigh on the roof; others cannot have enough twinkling lights of every color blinking at 10 or more of those insufferable inflatable snowmen that have become so popular. Tacky, classy, meager, monstrous, clever, tired, religious, Disney - they all elicited some response from me, my mom, or both.

I am not a fan of net lights. I think they take all the planned spontaneity out of artificial lights on trees, fences and door frames. They are far too uniform for their own good and they automatically warrant a low evaluation from me. (I have one friend who apparently grades her neighbors, but I am not that organized. My system is basically 1) I love that!; 2) What were they thinking?; and 3) I like that wreath on the door but that other stuff has no business there.)

Nor do I favor blinking lights. I find them distracting rather than inspired. It took me some time to get used to the icicle lights, but I am OK with them now. Done right they are charming; overdone and they look like a hardware store window display gone horribly awry. I appreciate wreaths with bows on windows, but EVERY window? Seriously? How long did that take? Some of the houses in this neighborhood are huge and must have 50 windows. If each wreath has a light as well as a bow, I can't help but think about having to walk around the whole damn house turning on and off all those damn lights.

My mother favors simplicity, hands down. A nice wreath on the front door with garland and clear lights on the lamppost and you win her approval. I am a sucker for the fences draped with garland and lights, but I must confess I prefer the wine colored ribbons to Santa hat red. Neither of us can quite comprehend the inflatable lawn figures: Santa, the reindeer, snowmen of all shapes and sizes, penguins, Eagles football men, teddy bears. They make no sense to me.

In general we prefer clear lights to colored, although this year we saw some lovely clear/all blue and clear/all red combinations. A prime example of lights that do not work: blue lights on the handrail, blinking net lights on the bushes, colored lights on the trees, a hologram of the Grinch shining on the front side of the house, and a neon Nativity scene next to a neon Santa sleigh.

And yet as much as I groan and roll my eyes, I love it all. Most of us no longer know who our neighbors are, but their personalities literally shine through for a few weeks every December. It's indulgent, wastes energy, has little or nothing to do with the true meaning of Christmas as taught to us by Charlie Brown, Linus, and all the Peanuts, but it's festive. No one can argue, debate, or grade that.

Happy holidaze!!!