Spending Time with Dickens

I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. ~Charles Dickens

What makes your heart open up this time of year? What causes and people tug at your heart?

This week is exam week for my daughter. She was complaining the other day about how the library at school is noisy, no longer the refuge of quiet study it used to be. Between cell phones, study groups and the lack of the traditional "shhhhhhhhh" from the staff, the stacks hum like a beehive rather than bear silent witness to the stress of studying.

How different it was in my day. During winter exams, same school, decades before, I would find myself heading up to the quiet seventh floor, grabbing a cubicle. But I didn't settle in to study. I searched the shelves for Dicken's A Christmas Carol. The story of a miserly man transformed by the season, with its descriptions of the England of another age, always calmed my anxiety about test taking. I had rediscovered the book by accident one semester when I needed a break from the textbooks and, from then on, it became a tradition to read it this time of year. A copy is sitting on my nightstand right now. They say listening to classical music for thirty minutes is the equivalent of taking 10 mgs of prozac. For me, reading A Christmas Carol produces the same effect - a feeling of peace comes over me and meditating on the true meaning of the season comes a little more easily.

Is it the ghosts of past, present and future that capture me? Maybe it is the message that our hearts are always capable of being turned toward God and goodwill. So, as this time of year, I send up a prayer of thanksgiving for the good heart and fervent nature of Charles Dickens, whose social commentary became a book for the ages.

Anticipating Advent

An intense anticipation itself transforms possibility into reality; our desires being often but precursors of the things which we are capable of performing. Samuel Smiles

As we look forward, in the season of Advent which begins this weekend, what are you anticipating or, better yet, what would be added to your life if you made anticipating a part of your every day thoughts?

I am part of a bookmark swap this season. Thirty eight people from all over the world are sending each other Christmas cards and bookmarks of all types. We don't know each other but have a common interest in reading. A friend reminded me there are quilters who send each other tiny quilt squares. Yet another reminded me of the art card swaps she has participated in where a playing card sized piece of art is sent to others and you receive one in return.

I have discovered this swap has an unexpected benefit beyond the wonderful creations which will replace my torn bits of paper and magazine cards as well as prevent dog-earing. Each day I walk out to the mailbox in anticipation. I haven't felt this excited about the mail since I was in fifth grade and we were assigned pen pals in other countries. Already I have been rewarded with Christmas cards to beautify my window ledges and bookmarks that make me think and smile. I look forward to tomorrow and hearing the postman go by.

Looking forward. It is a gift that I often ignore until something like this comes around. Anticipation. It is a seasonal companion that we can't afford to be without. I have a job interview this week and realized I am calm about the meeting because I am looking forward to it. I am anticipating learning more about myself and the folks I am interviewing with. Mainly, I am just anticipating that the possibility of me finding something (that uses all my skills in a big way) is the first step to making my future come true.

Happy first week of Advent, beginning Sunday December 2nd.
Look forward, dream, anticipate.

Enjoying Thanksgiving

Not what we have, but what we enjoy, constitutes our abundance.
J. Petit-Senn

So often we think about the things we do not have and the scarcity theory takes hold, and we panic, thinking we don't have enough. What are the things you enjoy now, regardless of what is lacking? Can you give thanks for these things and be content?

Trust the comic strips to provide inspiration. Mutts showcased the quote by Petit-Senn and I immediately took it to heart. Easily, I can think of the things right now lacking in my life. Probably because it is a Monday morning and there isn't enough caffeine in my system. It is one thing to ponder what I do have to be thankful for but it is quite another spin to think about what I enjoy and relish that fact.

So here I go, as I ponder what I enjoy:

• Leaves bursting with color, all the more special being delayed by the drought for weeks.
• Hanging with my husband in front of the television watching football on Saturday or Sunday afternoons (okay, so I sort of watch with a craft or book in my hands).
• Mccutcheon's Pumpkin Butter appearing this time each year at Whole Foods. And they are in Fredrick, Maryland to boot.
• Spending Thanksgiving at my son and daughter-in-law's, not having to cook the turkey.
• Making Advent cards and bookmarks with supplies I have on hand. Picking the quotes and designing just makes my soul happy.
• Coffee and lunch with friends. The time we have together never seems long enough.
• Sitting in my terra cotta colored family room, reading a book and drinking tea at three in the afternoon.
• Seeing my son when he stops by on his work break and shopping with my daughter.
• Trying on expensive shoes and being able to walk away - without them on my feet!
• Writing as the mood strikes.

It is wonderful to realize I could go on with my list. I believe I will do just that, but in my head, as I go about my day and Thanksgiving week. Enjoy!

Candle, Candle, Burning Bright

How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a weary world.
~William Shakespeare
Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared. ~Buddha

My daughter-in-law had a candle party last night. She asked each of us what we liked about candles. "How they smell" and "they are pretty" were popular answers. Mine? "I like the flame." As much as we've learned we must watch candles closely while burning them, I am still fascinated.

No, I am not a firebug but there is something about candle flames that have always fascinated me. In their miniature essence, I can see a full fire burning in the fireplace, crackling at a campsite, even in a tiki torch lighting a path. Candles can light a dark room as well as a chandelier of 60 watt bulbs. Candles can make a table romantic, give a focus for meditation, signify God Almighty's presence, or help celebrate a birthday. Thinking about it, candles are pretty powerful things.

Shakespeare and Buddha both recognized the power of candles and how readily they symbolize the light that we bring to others when we volunteer, share a good word, or simply feel grateful for each new day.

As we move to shorter days and longer nights, in this season of thanksgiving, I am going to try to be a candle burning bright. On the days when it seems the smallest of things doesn't make enough of a difference, I am going to think of that flame. When I see others burning bright, I will rejoice in the light they give off and bask in it myself.

After all, there is another quote, "how do I make myself look prettier? I always dine in candlelight." (unknown) It works from the inside out as well. When our souls are shining from doing and recognizing the good, how can we help but reflect the glow?

A Reason for the Seasons

Quest by Quotation

To be interested in the changing seasons is, in this middling zone, a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.
George Santayana

Maybe it was seeing plastic fall leaves tacked over lovely, living tropical plants in Hawaii. Maybe it was coming home to find leaves still not turned in our section of drought ridden North Carolina. Or it could have been finding that crazy Christmas ornament to remind us of Hawaii - a snowman with a lei and a hula skirt! Or even the quote I found this morning about California, "The seasons in Southern Cal are only fire, flood, drought and earthquake." All these have made me think about seasons, how mixed up they can be, and how we depend on them...or not.

Here we think we are fortunate to have two weeks of fall before winter hits. This year I am even missing those two weeks as dry, warm weather has played havoc with the delicate system of the trees and their leaves. But I never thought I would go to Hawaii and see fall leaves signaling Halloween and Thanksgiving. A Boston ex-pat, who came to the Big Island to visit and never left, said the turning of the seasons was the one thing he missed. I remember having the same feeling when I moved down here from Maryland in the days before global warming became the hot topic (all puns intended). Plumeria, ginger, and hibiscus blooming all year long have an appeal, though, that is hard to ignore.

But changing seasons seem to be signals to me and are valuable for that alone. Their change a way not only to mark time but allow myself to look at my life on a regular basis. I am not sure what season I am in since I tend to look at seasons as based on life events than age (where childhood is spring, youth is summer, etc.). As Santayana writes, it is better to be joyful in change than to be stuck wanting the sameness of temperatures that don't challenge or disregarding the subtle beauty of the other seasons. There is promise and beauty in all seasons, regardless of whether you are living one continuous spring (and want to tack up those fake fall leaves to make it different) or suffer through the seasonal changes of spring floods, summer drought and winter blizzards. Taking my chosen quote to heart this week, whether my soul is in the midst of a spring or fall, summer or winter, I will see the beauty in it.