A northerly swell is currently affecting the Atlantic waters directly below our house. We are receiving glorious splashes of salt spray along our north facing windows matched by thunderous booms reminiscent of a fighter jet breaking the sound barrier. It's primal, waves hitting our rocks that send vibrations through my body, day and night. I play Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker, weaving the sounds of Mother Nature and the magic of a symphony, and I close my eyes, go in and to listen to what is here.
There's the lingering smell of the dog shit I just raked up... rolling sounds of the incoming swells... a cool breeze that brushes my skin and brings goosebumps to my flesh... my jaw is tight... I feel the brilliance of the sun reflecting off of aqua waters, even with my eyes closed. All in all, mostly, some, there is awe . An earthly magic exists, if I can just turn off my monkey brain for a few breaths.
With December's meditations, I've found myself in a between state of grace, struggling to balance the manic doing to the practiced being. I'm being tested - not gonna lie- as I effort to remind myself that the holiday season is one of light, innocence, gratitude and possibility and NOT of stuff, stuff, plans and more stuff. As I feel the energy in my body expand with the thoughts of snow and togetherness in the Tetons, hanging in Gryffindor common room and drinking hot chocolate, taking walks with the aspens and evergreens, I can just as easily feel the energy suck as I calculate shuttle pick ups, re-work Harry's exam schedules, try to remember what presents I've already shipped before I buy more, and wonder if the holiday party we hosted was fun enough. Like the waves crashing below, I am rising and falling in a season of expectations and realizations.
This happens every year. Why? This unwelcome guest of self-doubt and second guessing shows up and sabotages my holiday spirit, making me want to climb into a cave and sleep until the season is over. Bah-Hum-Bug. So, I return to the waves and try to appreciate my thoughts as real, but not true (as coined by Songay Ringpoche). My thoughts are telling me that I am not doing enough, I'm not doing "it" well, and I'm a lost cause because I've lost the holiday spirit. Oh, boy! Who wants to hang out with this pity party? I definitely don't. And then the reality is: WOW! There are a lot of people in my life that I want to celebrate, gather, spoil and spend time with, how lucky could I be! I get to visit mountains, trees, and oceans through out the year, all which inspire and delight me! I am a loved, healthy human, what a blessing! These are the truths that carry through, that make this season sparkle.
I know there is effort in my "voice" as I recalibrate with the abundance and positives in my life, but that simple act of naming the gratitudes does settle the blood that's been too close to boiling. And the other truth is, I don't want to be tranced out by the details of thing-ing (aka acquiring/shopping/buying for others) and listing (packing lists, shopping carts, envelope labeling). There's no magic when that part of the holiday season takes over. And isn't that magic what it's all about? Awe. Joy and holy moments.
So, a short and sweet (hopefully) post before the new year rings in to wish you and yours a blessed holiday season. May your hearts find delight in the little things. May your hearts be open to the big things that shock and amaze. And may your hearts know love through it all, whatever messy triumphs come your way.
Cheers to an awesome 2023!
In awe (and a wee bit of angst),
St. Sunshine
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