It's Tradition...

I should have been wrapping; my bedroom is reduced to a path to the bed because of the accumulation of shopping bags. Instead, I ventured into the bowels of the house, also known as the crawl space. Twenty some years ago, we bought this lovely Cuban back split with six steps up, and six steps down from the main floor, and a crawl space. Twenty some years ago that same storage space did not seem to be a big deal, however now, it is a place which my knees wish to avoid at all cost, and my forehead still smarts from collisions with the duct work. I am pretty certain it moves when it sees me coming. 

A few years back, I decided to downsize the tree, thus reducing the number of ornaments needed and put everything else into boxes and bins in the crawl space. Today, in the spirit of the season, I thought that perhaps this wealth should now be distributed amongst my children. I took a poll of my new daughters and we all agreed that this was an excellent plan.

As I unpacked the decorations I thought about how much tradition is built into the trimming of a Christmas tree. Ornaments evoke certain times or places, or sometimes a special person, but all have memories attached. Thee tree can become a little collage of your life.

This glass and wire ornament is the oldest that I have and probably dates back to when my parents began their life together in 1938.

These ones are probably as old as I am or a bit older, but I remember them from my childhood.

The first manger scene that I remember was made of cardboard pieces. It was beautifully coloured and the figures were fitted into little tabs so that they would stand upright within the manger. When it inevitably wore out, it was replaced by these figurines which were always placed under the tree. Mary's nose is a bit worn and Joseph's staff is now missing and I can't seem to find another wise man, but assembling this little tableau was a very important tradition.

These are the stories of Christmas, the special and beloved books that were read once a year. The Shiniest Star is the oldest, and on a sentimental day, can still make me teary. I read them to my boys when they were small, and I still love them.

Some ornaments clearly mark special events in time, like the first Christmas of our marriage. I remember the excitement of having our own place to decorate and start our own traditions.

Then begins the years of handmade offerings made by precious little fingers. I am not sure who made this particular one, but despite the tragic loss of sight in one eye, Rudolph remains to commemorate the time when our children were small.

This ornament was cross-stitched by my sister. I keep it in the Simpsons box that she gave it to us in, and the gift tag remains in the lid. I lost my sister to cancer in 1990, so I love that I have this small tangible reminder of her.

I have a little forest of trees that I love to put out. They are warm and welcoming and can keep me company in winter months after the other ornaments have been put away. 

And the winter bears come out to sit on the Windsor bench. They will sit by the fireplace for the winter too. It is nice to have some things remain when all the twinkly stuff is put away, the rooms don't look quite so bare and empty.

I think there is a particular kind of madness that threatens at this time of year. It is a time that shines a brilliant spotlight, starkly delineating the haves from the have nots;  those present and those now absent. So many people go without; so many are unable to give; so many loved ones will not be at our gatherings this year. There is so much frenetic activity, often done with an air of desperation, to meet expectations that are often unrealistic. Not everyone has a spiritual connection with this holiday, or a family, religious or otherwise, to spend it with. 

So when I look at this photo, the only picture that I have of my siblings and I at Christmas, and I think back to the Christmas times of my childhood, I think that my parents set a good example for me to follow. Give what you can; appreciate what is received; include others; give to those who have less; enjoy being together and remember the best gift is love. 

Keep Calm and......

November is ending in my little part of Ontario, with gloomy skies and rain. This lends itself to overcast interior skies as well and an inclination to hibernate, or  perhaps a state of torpor; long periods of sleep broken by short periods of feeding on nuts. Right, that's for chipmunks. It takes a lot of little extra effort to face the day sometimes, especially as we are now heading into a season of what can be particular insanity. It is hard to remain balanced somewhere realistic between what is seen and advertised as necessary to enjoy the season, and what demonstrates a spirit of love and generosity to both those we love and those in need. I need a sign that says "Keep Calm and Christmas On".

I have decided that my British ancestry, those original "Keep Calm" folks, has become diluted over the generations because that calm gene seems to be missing. This slogan is of course, not ancient, harking back only as far as the second World War, and was to be used to raise the morale of the British public in time of war and specifically should Britain be invaded. It was one of three slogans being considered and was never printed for bulk distribution as a propaganda poster. A test print was found and in the last few years this slogan has become a universally known meme, apparently capturing something in the public's collective psyche.

Regardless of its current use or the historic intent, I found it interesting that the slogan was not just "Keep Calm".  Instead, it cleverly and possibly inadvertently, sets out the desired goal and how to achieve it; keep calm by carrying on with life in spite of danger and fear. Setting aside the current or historic use of the slogan, I was thinking that the "and" was the important word in the phrase. I don't think that calmness can be achieved or maintained passively; some action or activity is required. Everyday life is so busy and unpredictable that it is hard to remain anywhere even in the remote region of balanced. I sometimes wonder too, if it is not harder to handle the smaller annoyances and daily mental clutter of relatively normal life that just slowly and inexorably erode your peace of mind.

I realized that I have already put some strategies in place that work for me and that the variety of memes that have evolved is actually a reflection of the number of things that people do or use to maintain some personal sense of calm in their lives. I will not include "Keep Calm and Coffee On" in my list because, well,that is just a given.

Keep Calm ....and Walk On.
For me, this is almost a necessity; a physical change of environment that diverts my mind completely, giving the whirring a chance to settle down and demanding focus on what it around me. The wind reminds me to take a deep breath, and the beauty, no matter the season, commands my attention. My camera helps me see not just the vista but the minute, and marvel pushes worry aside if only for a time. And every once in a while, I bump into someone on the path, and that short, chance encounter adds something really meaningful to my day. So while meandering on the trail may not provide a lot of aerobic exercise for my heart, it provides emotional health for my heart. I am satisfied with that. 

....and Book On.
Stephen King said that "books are a uniquely portable magic"; a "timeout" guaranteed to carry you away for five minutes or an hour or so. And sometimes if I can't concentrate enough to follow the thread of a story, I can still look at a book or magazine for creative ideas or do a little research to identify something in my growing "what is that?" photo files. Another favorite diversion is to spend an hour looking for books at the local thrift stores. The search is fun and lifts the the spirit, the cost is small and the rewards are sometimes amazing. No down side ever, because there is always a treasure found for someone.I also read that it's not hoarding if it is books.

....and Create On.
There is something uniquely therapeutic in giving the analytical side of your brain a rest and using the other side to create something. It doesn't have to be something big, because sometimes we just don't have the time or energy for that, but maybe writing a few lines, colouring a page, taking a photo or rearranging a shelf so it is more pleasing. These few moments can nourish the soul and give expression to something from inside yourself, and solely for yourself, should you decide it.

....and Rest On.
Life can be relentless, and the times of stress, sorrow or pain, can vastly outnumber those times when things even seem ok, never mind happy. I have decided, slightly later in life, that if you want to keep up you have to allow time for rest; mental, emotional and physical. I also know that at times it seems like an impossibility. I was trying to keep up with teenage boys, working full time, was a wife, was caring for increasing ill and feeble parents and then buried my parents. An incredibly intense time when you just put your head down and deal with it the best you can. It is a bit blurry now in some ways, all compacted together, like when you take a trip and do so many things each day, that when you come home you can't remember what day you did those things on. I learned how vulnerable you can become when when body and mind are exhausted and you are trying to keep your emotions reined in. Grief and pain and fear will find an expression, if not emotionally, then physically. Over time, and mostly unintentionally, I have simplified my life; my schedule, my activities and my expectations. My life is quieter now, includes a smaller circle of people and a shorter list of activities, which now includes things like couch time with a book and a solitary walk. Times for rest.  Life is not different. I am different.