Santa. Figured he must be North Polish.
Wanted to buy some music but I was done with my Christmas Chopin.
Even now, in this spirit of giving, it’s still much too hard to recognize others. There is something else besides ourselves.
The smells, tastes, sights and feelings of Christmases long ago bring to mind memories of earlier versions of who we were.
Presents back then . . . a Schwinn bike, a drab olive green sweater from Grandma and a 7” roll of recording tape – but no recorder!
It’s all a WONDER isn’t it? What happened. What we remember about what happened and how those memories affected us.
And now, decades later, we still sit in a dream and wonder what it all means. Soon, another Holiday will be in the bag. That which we are supposed to ‘get’ from seasons like this; will we miss it? Or, maybe, each one is part of a grand puzzle that identifies its meaning only after a given number of pieces have been collected.
This year I’ve played the clown. Hung the Christmas tree upside down. Not trying to be a czar. Just wondering where to put the star.
Santa just had his ride. Something I have never tried. Each reindeer with a handsome muzzle. While I look for a new puzzle.
You folks out there . . . you are my ‘presents’. I thank each and every one of you for being there. I thank you for your kind indulgence of what gets presented – no matter how crazy. I honor all of you.
Thank you . . .
and may these next several days be special. Contemplative. Whole. May they bring forth exactly what you desire and need.