The Darkest Day

I started a new tradition with my kids a few years ago. In the summer, when the weather is reasonably good, I take the oldest ones up to northern Minnesota for a little camping.  We find the remotest location possible within a State Park and set up housekeeping in a tent for three or four days.  We sleep on the hard ground, we eat food that has been warmed up over a fire and we explore the area in the hopes of seeing large and potentially dangerous animals (at a distance).  I mention this here only as a prelude to my train of thought. This camping, although rustic, is far from primal - we have an easily built fire, we have mostly prepared foods, we have a car in which to drive away if the weather turns foul, but it allows my kids to see how easy life really is for us most of the time.  This last year, I brought along a flint striker and let them set about starting their own fire.  After nearly an hour of attempts there had been only a small fizzle of flame and the need for sustenance outweighed the basic skill set of building a fire without an easy spark, and the matches were brought forth.

Camping in the woods with my kids makes me think about what sort of conditions humans survived for thousands of years. A daily job of finding shelter, food, and warmth….that's it, day after day.  No house to mortgage, clean, and repair.  No cars to buy, fix, and drive.  No jobs to employ, tax, and stress us.  Just life, simple and basic....and extremely difficult.  I like to think that, if push came to shove, I could survive better than most out in the elements.   I think about what I would need first - shelter? food? and what would be the best way of obtaining these things.  I realize that this is likely a silly thought experiment given today's world, but it and the time of year that we are in lead me to the following question:


Who originally figured out the solstice timing?

There are countless festivities around this time every year - almost every culture has some celebration or feast, but who was the first?  Early neolithic cultures in England come to mind with their stone circles that have been assumed to be related to the solstices, but the builders of Stonehenge weren't necessarily first, they just built a great huge rock configuration after they had it worked out.  What fascinates me is wondering who was the first person to take a moment in their daily drudgery and say, "is it me, or are the days getting shorter?"  At what point did homo sapians advance enough to notice that the days quietly got shorter until approximately now and then slowly begin to get longer again?

Every year, as each new season happens, I have to stop and think, "did it happen like this last year?" I marvel anew at the first green sprouts, the warm breeze, the turning of the leaves, the first snow….it is as though I have no memory of the season specifics that I have lived through for the last forty years. And the sudden realization that the nights are getting ever longer catches me completely off guard when I walk outside after work and realize I am standing in twilight.  This realization that the days are getting shorter always fills me with a certain amount of gloominess.  How much more might the first people have felt this gloom slowly engulfing them?  It must have felt like the end of days at times and for many it probably was - starvation was a fairly common form of population control and the cold weather did not make survival any easier.

What I find interesting is that among most of the cultures of the world, this celebration appears to have developed independently of one another.  There was no newspaper, no television broadcast to announce a discovery of the day upon which the earth took off again for another 585 million miles around the sun, no universally agreed upon moment of relief in which the world would heave a collective sign and think, "oh, good! We are on course for another year!"   And so, each region and culture developed their own set of beliefs and story for why things are the way they are - each slightly different, but with a common thread…..light.

Regardless of the origins, the celebrations ring similar in more ways than they are different - The coming of the light, whether it be in the form of a person or the return of the sun's warmth to the earth.  They all celebrate a subtle shifting of the earth and all its inhabitants that promises renewed hope for the future.  So, this year, whether you light a candle on a menorah, decorate a Christmas tree, burn a yule log, celebrate Kwanzaa, or light a candle and say a quiet "thank-you" to the earth and sun, remember we are all in this Earth together for another spectacular 585 million mile ride around a distant sun. The darkest day is here, now let the light come in.

Peace.

Wabi-sabi

It is the pre-holiday season again.  The first of November is quickly gone, when all the Halloween decorations have been torn down and stashed until next year and all the Christmas decorations have been put up in the department stores with merry Christmas music blaring to help inspire you to do your Christmas shopping a little early this year.  Giving thanks doesn't sell material things, so the retailers just jump right over Thanksgiving and head for what will move inventory before the fourth quarter of the year is up in order to keep the stockholders happy.  What a world, what a world.

This time of year becomes entirely too compressed, too hurried.  There is the seasonal dread of the darker days and the cold temperatures, there is the requisite shopping to be done with equal parts of faked joy and drummed up enthusiasm that will culminate in one or two days of anticipated holiday bliss which never quite lives up to our memories from childhood no matter how hard we try.  Not to mention the stresses of travel, families getting together, and parties to be attended.  I find myself caught up in a whirlwind of holiday craziness that only subsides when I flip the calendar and realize that it is January 2nd which then leads rapidly to a post holiday funk.

I used to hate the coming of winter. The end of the warmth, the darker days and longer nights, but now I have come to enjoy it as a chance to read, to sleep, to watch a movie with one of my kids on a Saturday afternoon.  As to the "pre-holiday race to new year" time….it will require a little wabi-sabi thinking.

Wabi-sabi is a Japanese philosophy that essentially encompasses the idea that nothing is ever permanent, nothing is ever perfect, and nothing is ever complete.  This imperfection, impermanence, and incompleteness are things to be valued and cherished in and of themselves rather than constantly striving for some distant, ideal "finish line".  The idea that "I will be happy when__________" is an all to common phrase, especially in the Western hemisphere, as we strive for complete infinite perfection and are constantly stressed and disappointed when it is never quite achieved.

Nature is perhaps the very best model for this concept.  Nature is perfect in its incompleteness, complete in its imperfection, and the seasons quietly change never to allow permanence. The very leaves falling off the trees outside represent Wabi-sabi in their random, chaotic distribution and eventual rotting demise.  The same will apply to the snow, and the spring mud and melting that is sure to come.

Washing dishes is probably the first place I learned to use this principle. The dishes in my house never stay washed.  I would no more than finish one load of dishes only to have my kids hand me another set from the endless meal and snack cycle that goes on with a growing family. It would make me crazy! So, in an effort to avoid the straight jacket and padded room, I learned to let the frustration go and love the process - the sorting, the mess, the hot water, the soap, the cleaning, rinsing, drying and putting away - knowing all the while that it was all right that in another ten minutes I could do it again if I wanted.   My daughters' attic bedrooms are another place where I have to employ this philosophy as well - they are a mess and even after cleaning completely they never stay clean for more than three hours.  No amount of yelling, cajoling, or applying to their (as yet underdeveloped) sense of personal hygiene is going to keep this area clean, but when I stop and realize that in a few short years, they will be grown and gone to mess up houses and apartments of their own, I have to fight the urge to add a few more random pieces of clothes to the mess for a while longer.

Somewhat related to this whole idea is another theory of, "picture it already broken" because all things - even us - will someday be gone.  My favorite coffee cup is the example I use a lot.  I know that at some point one of my children (or myself) will knock it on the floor and it will shatter. I know that typically this sort of thing would have upset me, but since adopting the "picture it already broken" philosophy, I have found that many things come and go without my typical distraught reaction because I have already dealt with their loss mentally.  I notice them and treasure them a bit more because, in my mind, they are already gone.  A bit fatalistic in some sense, but it is oddly very soothing and when a favorite dish crashes to the floor, or a beloved childhood book is found in tatters,  I now find myself thinking, "yep, that's how I pictured it" and there is now space in my cupboard and bookshelf for a new favorite item to take up residence.  I feel that even treasured items are meant to be used and loved rather than placed on a shelf somewhere safe.  I have my grandmother's china set that my mom gave to her for a present - we routinely pull these out and use them for dinners in which I would actually like the plates to match or when we have more people to dinner than we have mismatched plates.  I know that these too will slowly meet with unfortunate ends, but they will have been lovingly used in the process.

How this all applies to this chaotic pre-holiday season is this:  I stop and notice the day for what it is - windy, rainy, cold, hectic- and then, rather than allowing the typical frustration and depression to take hold, I smile and see if for it's imperfect, impermanent chaotic beauty - the quiet melancholy of the fall season. For the holidays this year, rather than striving for the great traditional celebration in which time stops in a moment of perfect  completeness, I am going to rejoice in the imperfections, the craziness, the chaos of last minute shopping, the lack of funds, the messes, the pine needles on the floor, the dry turkey, the kid that doesn't like their present, and even the turning of the year into the dark days of January because, all too soon, this too will pass and the world will roll around to spring again.

The Week Between

There is this weird and funky week between Christmas and New Years. Nothing of any great importance ever gets accomplished during this week. You sort of check into work to make sure things are still going alright, but no new projects are usually tackled unless you need a serious tax write off.

This is the assessment week. The week of the year when you kind of wrap up all the miscellaneous odds and ends that need wrapping up. What were the top new stories? What were the best movies? Was it a good year? Did you accomplish what you set out to do? Did you stick to the resolutions? Do you even remember what they were?

I don't make resolutions anymore. Too much pressure and guilt associated with that practice. I will, periodically make a resolution in the middle of the year out of the clear blue, like "I will no longer drink pop except for special occasions", and then do it. I only tackle the resolutions that I am absolutely ready to do and know I can accomplish. Gives a person a feeling of satisfaction. It is like making the "to do list" and writing down the things that you have already accomplished for the day.

One of our spontaneous resolutions this last month was to not spend much (if any) money on Christmas presents. I am proud to say that we accomplished this resolution. With five kiddos - three under the age of 8 - this can be a little tricky. We did spring for a few nice gifts which of course came from Santa himself - a "multi-use" tool for my son, an art pastel drawing book for one daughter, water color paints for another daughter, and two webkins - which were the only two technologically advanced gifts we bought. Everything else required some imagination and/or work. One of the favorite gifts by far as been the five decks of playing cards that we then put to almost immediate use to play "Nuts" also known as "Oh, Hell!" in some circles - ironically, the 4 year old was kicking our butts last night. The rest of the gifts...., well let's just say that re- gifting is alive and well at our house and we keep the second hand stores in business.

Christmas has gotten entirely out of hand. There is simply too much STUFF that people feel they have to have. What does it do for us? Does it make us happier? Does it save us time? If we are in it to save time, what do we do with all the time that was saved?.....go out and buy more stuff? It is crazy! The thing that what scares me the most is seeing what it does to kids that think that they have to have all this crap and have really no idea of what it costs - both in money and in the destruction of brain cells.

We don't have a gaming system at our house. We do this on purpose. If I had my druthers, we wouldn't have a T.V. either. My kids sometimes tell me that we are very old fashioned compared to their friends. I asked my only son once if this bothered him, "Not really. There is too much other fun stuff to do." he said......he is my favorite son.

They seem to get it though, why we deprive them of all the crap....I mean stuff that all their friends seem to be inundated with and if they don't get it I just shove them out the door and tell them to go find two sticks and have a sword fight with a sibling. I just watched my kids have a blast all day playing cards with each other, painting, playing pretend dress up, drawing and putting a puzzle together. I have a feeling that when they think back to their childhoods, they will remember the crazy things that they did together rather than the time that they spent glued to a computer for their allotted 30 minutes of time. I know that is what I remember from being a kid. I remember blowing up army guys with my brother out on the driveway, I remember swinging on the swing set, I remember dressing up and playing house - those were the fun times. Sitting in front of a computer, although sometimes very cool.....like now..... it is also very lonely. What we humans seem to have made up for in technology we have lost in social connectedness and meaningful interaction.

This has led to a new spontaneous resolution for this new year that is rapidly approaching - I will be attempting to send out hand written, personal letters to family and friends. Each day or two I think of a person that I haven't written to in a while and sit down to write a few lines in a card to them and send it off. No cookie cutter holiday cards this year....there wasn't enough cash for that, but there is enough care and affection to take the time to write and let people know that I think of them. It may take me until June, but I will hopefully get through my holiday list before next winter. So far, two down and about 120 more to go.