I often joke about the fact that no sooner than we rid the house of all the Christmas glitter and tinsel, it’s time to get out the Easter decorations. And then when we finally wipe that last bit of fake plastic “grass” out of the nooks and crannies, it’s time for barbecues and fireflies. And then pumpkins and so on and so on…
Perhaps my need for seasonal change is the reminder that life is indeed in constant motion. I mark time with events – birthdays, holidays, graduations, anniversaries. For me the cyclical nature of seasons is reassuring. It’s comforting to know that with the unknown comes the known. I face change and uncertainty with each passing day but I also have the reassurance of yet another season. Another Christmas, another Easter, another Thanksgiving. I believe the traditions that we celebrate with each season help keep me grounded. I believe that holding on to what I know helps me handle the unknown.
Think about a favorite memory. Was it summer or winter? Spring or fall? That moment will never return but that season will. I’ve been told that we are creatures of habit, but I am also a creature of adventure. I need the security of the familiar, but I long for new experiences. I think that having seasons, those repetitions, those traditions, gives me an advantage while I summit the mountains; while I swim the oceans; while I explore the unknown. My life changes but soon it will be spring again and I will return to a familiar place.
The seasons also remind me that I can’t just expect tomorrow to be better. Life will always be challenging. Disappointment and heartache may fill my days but I must learn to be thankful for what I have. I should find peace and happiness now. I should treasure the gifts of love that I have been afforded in this life. Because winter comes, too.
There is some comfort in the surety of it all. The seasons help me remember to slow down once in a while and savor the moment. I thank God for my blessings (and even my struggles) and then I step out to face the unknown.
Peace,
Denis
Those are nice words but it’s not always an easy task, this honoring of your parents. Anyone with elderly parents will likely understand. At times it seems as if the roles have been reversed. My parents need more attention. They need more help. They need more understanding. They need more advice. They need more patience. They need more love. Their needs remind me of when we were raising our three children – always needing more than we had to give. And us always “running on empty” just doing the best we could.
The reality is that time (or a specific year) has little to do with how fulfilled I am in this life. Of course there have been plenty of crappy years but there have been many amazing years as well. We remember the year our well went dry (literally) – 1997 but we also cherish the memory of holding our newborns for the first time – so 1978, 1980 and 1983 were good years!
Mothers are powerful! Ask any woman who has cared for a sick child; wept for the loss of life; fought for her child’s acceptance; guarded her offspring without flinching; celebrated joy and comforted heartache; loved unconditionally. All while saying “yes”.
I’m not that prayerful. Not in the “get-down-on-your-knees-bow-your-head-and-pray” sense of the word. I’m more of a “Oh, God!” “Help me!” kind of guy.
Each year my Advent is about the same. Frenzy followed by peace. Blissful peace. Some years it sneaks up on me (like when a grandchild crawls up on my lap and gives me an undeserved hug or when my cousin’s Christmas card arrives in the mail and I can relive all those joyful memories of Christmases long ago). Most years it kind of hits me right between the eyes (like reuniting with a friend with whom too much time has passed and realizing immediately that time hasn’t diminished the love we share). The thing is, I never find peace on my own. Someone always brings it to me.
Recently my spirituality group was encouraged to list our blessings and to reflect on what matters most to us and what matters least. I was the only one who didn’t mention God. Not that I don’t think that God is important, I just didn’t single him (her) out. Instead I chose to list experiences for which I was and am and will always be thankful.
I’ve been hording all the goodness in my life. Keeping it all to myself. Honestly I feel privileged because, in all this chaos, I have more happiness in my life than most others. I suppose I have been selfish. While grateful for my blessings, I often dismiss them as just a part of my good life. I sometimes forget how much I have been given. How truly blessed I am. I have a spouse that loves me and stands beside me through thick and thin. I have children and grandchildren who fill my heart with love beyond measure. And I have friends who walk this journey with me every day and carry me when I can’t go on.
I am encouraged because after school one day recently, my (almost) seven year-old grandson gave my wife a piece of Banana Laffy Taffy®.