Hoopla and Hullabaloo

Those are the words I use to define the time from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day. No matter how well prepared we think we are for the rush of three holidays that span roughly 5 weeks, as we move from one to another, the pace quickens to the point where we seem to get one holiday over and stress to prepare for the next one. And then, finally, January 2nd comes, and our rushed pace, except for the dis-assembly of holiday decorations, is over.

While I don’t appreciate the stress created from moving so quickly from holiday to holiday, gathering and preparing for each one, it’s almost like, after it’s over, the adrenaline rush just dies. We don’t slow down, we simply stop! It’s like being in your car, traveling along a highway, then seeing a sign that says “reduced speed ahead” so you slow down just a little and then, from out of what seems like nowhere, there is a traffic light, on red, stuck up in the sky in front of you. You stop and however safely you do so, you come to a full and complete stop and just sit there. The light will eventually change and you’ll keep moving along, but it’s a long time traveling on a rural-type road until you get to another highway where you can speed up.

For those of us who live in areas where winter is one of Mother Nature’s nasty moods, we all begin to think about what she might have in store for us, just waiting around the bend in the road. No one makes any serious plans to see or do something, never knowing when she will strike with fury. We tend to muddle along the road, anticipating her wrath because it WILL arrive at some point, and hoping that her tempestuousness will be mild.

For the winter season we are in right now, the Farmer’s Almanac predicted that December wouldn’t hold a lot of coatings of white blankets on the ground, which turned out to be true. But it also forecast that January and February is when she will unleash her outrage upon us. For me, the Farmer’s Almanac predictions for weather are like daily horoscopes – I don’t really believe in the actual forecast of either, but I still pay attention with a “just in case” attitude.

Oh, how sometimes I wish I could return to my childhood each winter – when joy erupted for a “school closings” day announcement on the TV/radio and we were so excited to bundle up like the Michelin man and go play in the white stuff for hours, ignoring wet feet and runny noses and fingers that felt like icicles! I miss that innocence with which I could appreciate the snow because I didn’t bear the responsibility to clear vehicles, shovel walks, try to travel to work on treacherous roads. We’d come back in after hours of play, shed the wet clothes, climb back into our warm pajamas, and have either tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches or hot chocolate and toast. All of the goodies we’d gotten for Christmas were still new to us, so we could laze around reading or playing games.

Now, no longer children, we see snowfall as an inconvenience, no matter how much we enjoy its initial beauty. And we have no adrenaline left from our hoopla and hullabaloo holidays, so short daylight hours and cold winter temperatures mixed with no big holidays to prepare for makes the winter seem to last forever…

I’ve been trying to think about ways in which I could create a little bit of that excitement, if not every day, at least once a week, to get through what feels like that forever of winter. It shouldn’t be a hard task, since even having a list of errands that need attention gets me out and about. I’ve become a bit lazy in that regard, planning all of my errands for the same day, figuring I’d do everything while I was out and about. Maybe it’s just as simple as splitting them into different days so that I have cause to be out and around people more often. Maybe getting some fresh air, no matter how cold that air is, will be enough. Maybe remembering that the snow didn’t kill me as a child and going out in it to play will help.

Any ideas from any of you???

A Final Rambling…

The words themselves that we use to describe the season of winter are as terse in sound as the season itself – bitter, blustery, biting, chilling, arctic – all resonate with a sharply negative sound that feels much like the season as it bears down on us. Mired in layers of clothing as we fight Mother Nature’s determination to steal our body heat. Snowflakes at first laced with serene beauty and peacefulness as they fall from the skies become piles of dirty debris and stone as they are moved aside to allow us to attempt at our daily routines. Children clamor in the morning with hopes to hear of a school closing – or at least a delay – while parents stress over how to accommodate them should they occur.

Winter is certainly a child’s season. Sledding and snowmen, snow angels and snowball fights are “fun” for the young. Oblivious to the cold, they romp and dance in a fresh snowfall like a ballerina on stage…. fingers and toes tingling and noses running to be ignored in exchange for the vigorous need to stretch their limbs…to laugh with glee and childish joy…

The foods we tend to enjoy in this coldest of seasons reflect our desire for warmth – stews and hearty soups become a regular fare on the menu from which we will feed ourselves. Oh, and we will indulge…no longer hostage to the swimsuit diets of summer… sweatshirts and sweatpants replace shorts and a tee – good at hiding those extra layers we put on our bodies in an attempt to provide even more warmth to them. And the holidays of the winter season allow us to over-indulge our palettes as well… turkey, ham and all of the traditional trimmings. And there will be dessert with these meals, which we’ll make room for in our stomachs no matter how much we’ve eaten. Holidays are causes for celebration and while the children are more interested in the gifts, the adults are more interested in a pretty table laden with our finest dishes – bowls and platters over-flowing with the food items we “save” for a holiday meal.

Nonetheless, the season of winter keeps us on edge – always concerned about events even beyond school days that are scheduled to occur and may have to be cancelled. We listen intently to weather reports….the merest hint of an impending storm has us rushing to the store for necessities – like the squirrels feeling the change in weather and hurriedly searching for food that will keep them fed when the ground is covered with snow…

And the trees – stripped bare of leaves except for the hearty evergreen – whose boughs toss and curl in the gusts of wind – become laden and bent with snow as it falls and sticks to them….

After the holidays, the real ‘feel’ of winter becomes ominous. No longer gatherings and celebrations to look forward to and plan for… life becomes a routine that is mundane and without change – we fight our internal desire to hibernate inside while we cringe against the undaunting task of bundling up for a trip outside. We admonish ourselves for all of those times, during the heated and humid summer, when we wished for colder weather.

Winter is. Unlike the other seasons, it shows no great changes as it passes. Except for the avid skiers, most of us wish for a ‘mild’ winter. We feel stagnant, and daylight dawns too late while dusk falls far too early. Grumbling about driving to work and home again in the dark… grumbling as the wicked wind finds its way through our deepest coats to chill us… grumbling because the dog needs let out… grumbling about the heating bill… grumbling because the kids are full of energy and have nowhere to expend it… grumbling because we need to take the trash out… just grumbling about what seems like an eternity of time as this season slowly passes… Relying on our faith that spring will eventually come, according to Mother Nature’s plan, and wishing she’d just get on with it already…

If we’re lucky, the first hints of spring do finally show themselves sooner than later… a melting of the now detested piles of old snow, the first flower of spring peeking its head above the barren ground, the joy at seeing what we know as “the first robin of spring”. Anticipation begins to build slowly as we wait for the genesis of spring to show itself, our guarantee that we’ve somehow successfully muddled through the deviousness of winter… Soon, our schedules of coming and going each day will appear at the onset of dawn and end at the onset of dusk…

Hope renews – that is the gift that spring gives us with its arrival – and we take notice of the changes in the outside world with zealousness… buds on trees, the sounds of birds, grass starting to be green instead of brown… crocus and forsythia showing off in delight that they, too, have survived, followed by daffodils, tulips and hyacinths. We await the days until we’re 100% sure we can stash those heavy coats, gloves, scarves and boots that have laden us. We don’t think about the onset of summer and those summer days when we’ll be again wishing for the cold weather that has just released us from its torment…

Living life, to me, seems like the seasons. We adjust through the changes, grumble about the ones we don’t like (winter), glory in the ones we do like (spring) and just get busy living life the rest of the time (summer and autumn). Our moods tend to elevate and ebb according to the seasons as well. If only we could have the same hope, when within our mood of winter, that spring will revive us…

I live in a place with 4 seasons. I still prefer cold over hot. I couldn’t imagine living in a place without snow, I couldn’t imagine Christmas without thinking it will be cold. (I admire my friends in the southern hemisphere who celebrate this holiday in what is the middle of their summer.) What each circle of seasons teaches me is to have faith that things will not remain just as they are at a given moment… that living life is also a cycle with its goods and bads in each cycle… and the best we can ever hope for is to be alive for the next cycle….

(P.S. If you’re in the midst of the heat wave starting today and lasting through the weekend here in my part of the country, I hope this made you think “cool” while you read it!)

And still she rambles on…

Words – sounds that feel good to our tongue and lips – by conscious decision we choose the right word – – is the season fall or autumn? Both capture the same image, but autumn rolls off the tongue like a vision of its splendor. The word brings forth the thought of the sober and careful nature that is the capitulation of spring and summer now gone “mad” – colors everywhere – leaves on the trees are now more like tethered balloons – nature at the circus with fun and visual delights. No more the solid green of the trees and lawns but a true vision of the palette of life foreshadowing the glory that will lead to the rest and dormancy that is winter. And why not? After such an outburst and display, nature must recover herself and prepare for the explosion that will come with each new spring – thrusting all of her energy into the composition of a new creation. But in autumn, the energy has been expended and the rewards evident in display – nature’s last chance to show off and strut her brilliance and dazzle us for one more time like the fireworks at the end of the show. In the brilliance, we ignore the tomato plants now bent and drooped, frail and withered and having outlived their purpose, or the raspberry vine which long lost its fruit and now becomes only a bramble to shelter rabbits and other critters foraging for safety and nourishment before the final freeze… the freeze that is the sound of the word winter – say the word and its syllables bite like Dante’s final circle in Hell – Satan is frozen in a lake of ice and his wings flap to create a hurricane while his tears are frozen to his face – the Earth wrapped in her cloak of white and slumber with the starkness of contrast of the naked trees – stripped like Christ before the crucifixion, head bowed and fate heavy upon His face. In these moments, the promise of the new Genesis of spring – the absolute renewal and all its implications – something we only believe by faith will occur.

Words and ideas – the importance of all those synapses firing and jumping – playing with the meaning and shadings – to admit only generically at the meanings… being allowed to explore the meaning that we at first only hint at and then, amazed by the truth of the situation, we begin to understand the full ramifications of what our words and ideas reveal of ourselves to another. How often do we wish we could “take back” our words – syllables said in the heat of a given moment which are at the core of the truth inside ourselves – – realizing that we have said too much only because we have been totally honest – and the light of absolution does not come from the other’s eyes – the ramifications of our deepest fears that we cannot undo the damage that has been done, while simultaneously knowing that speaking our truths are damaging to ourselves if left silent… the struggle to validate ourselves to be accepted as just who we are against the believe that no one will be willing, much less able, to accept us at that place.

I like words, the magic and the promises they convey – to explore or explain their sense of being and meaning- but I use them too much in an attempt to explore or explain my own sense of being and meaning – trying so diligently to come up with the “right” answers to life’s questions. For example, during a job interview, one is asked if one could trust someone who had lied to him/her… How can one answer in a simple “yes” or “no”? We as humans set out with good intentions, and no one else but each of us can be the scale by which we measure ourselves – to say that I wouldn’t trust someone would suggest that I have never lied — but to say that I wouldn’t trust that person is also to impose my own values on a situation of which I do not have full knowledge. And so, one hedges his/her bet by a rash of words explaining the thought process – because the words beyond “yes” or “no” are needed if we want to accurately convey that we just don’t know the answer, rather than admit that we don’t know the answer. Explanation and justification are rationalization at their best… rather than admit that we are more than the sum of parts known by a single answer…