We stand in the park, early morning washing over us. There is little going on today…. we haven’t even seen a jay or eagle. Yet when I turn I see one brave bloom. It stands alone at the end of what appears to be a dead stalk. Yet when I investigate I find that the vine has climbed vigorously up to embrace the sun. It is a signal that I have arrived at the holidays.
We prepare for Thanksgiving, Ranger and I. I am at the grocery store, I am in the kitchen. I go to the airport to pick up family travelers. I plan ahead and then get frustrated when I’ve forgotten something completely. His leg is sore, and he hobbles up the staircase. My ankles ache. Darryl has an upset stomach…. so it goes….
We have arrived at this Holiday season. Wow…. and now we will enter it. There is a difference. Arriving means you have come. You’ve landed. You’ve opened the door. Entering is something else. You enter into a spirit of the season. You usher your mental self into joyful experiences. You make peace with the past, and create memories for those around you. Entering Thanksgiving is a way to meditate. Entering Thanksgiving is a way to really pray that we have the ability to react to everyone and everything with an open mind and love.
Ranger: “So what does that mean for today, lady?”
Me: “I think it means that I take a break to write and reflect on what the next few days have to offer in the way of entering. I want my family to not only arrive at my home, but also enter. I want my body to not only arrive at the calendar date, but be able to spread out and rejoice. I want my table to be a place of entering celebration and remembrance. I want to really see: people, food, places.”
Ranger: “Well, yes…. so go on. I’m hanging on every word. Ha.”
Me: “I’m talking about attitude, Ranger. I want to bring this attitude into Christmas as well. I want to slow way down, not get frenzied, be listening and aware of the people and places around me. I want to talk about the Butterfly Pea I saw today in the park. Darryl and I were there to capture pictures of Scrub Jays. As I was walking along I saw a tiny blue flower. It was all alone, with no visible support… just sticking out from a dried broom straw. But on closer look, the little vine had found its way up the straw and burst into furious flower. I think that is what you and I are doing, Ranger. We are both bursting into furious flower in unlikely places.”