Tinsel, trees, & trash-bins a Ho-Ho-Holiday romp

    Well the season is upon us, on top of us, dining at our table nearly uninvited and yes-- most folks would do anything to slip out from under the gooses axe right about now. Time as it would seem is running out! The economy is in ruin, Rick Perry is a powerful rich guy and The Mayan calendar begins in mere weeks to tick-tock tick-tock! Not to mention no one has a clue how to act around their own mother, sister, old friend or dreaded ex.  Let's be fair though, there is polio vaccine, indoor plumbing and if you are reading this, chances are you ate something today and were provided shelter with wi-fi to boot. 
    ahh but stress is as stress does. We must enthusiastically wash it, dry it, and comb into a managable and presentable shape, for now, for mom. (and don't mention the tattoo!) In truth, since I live on the other side of the planet , I have much less to worry about than I used to. It's pretty nice really,  I have happily avoided the notion of social obligation and in my adult life I have taken up the practice of celebrating Solstice instead.  It's not just for the sake of convienience though, ...it's my truth.  This Truth bam-bam-banged on the door incessantly for a number of years before I answered it. For me, the "knock-knock" "who's there?" was the "er,..hello, it's me the Law of the land". Not our land, or any land that man can claim , name and spray with Monsanto's Round-up ready- but the true wild land, and the nothing-but-noble voice of it's residents; trees, plants, birds and rare beasts. Much like Santa- the real magic of these spaces resides within us, without us and responds to us positvely when we are good.
     If you need any evidence that the world is a cooky misguided place, look no further than the dumpster bins lining every street in every state in suburbia shortly after the big bang of new years. Who can walk by these swollen overfilled crates of memories with half dead young fir trees that never had a chance- and NOT heave a perplexed sigh? What a way to celebrate the birth of the christ-child, but by killing a tree-child... what a way indeed.  so Bah- humbug to that.  There I said it.  The "rudolf ralph" (as I like to call it) or the christmas binge, and tinsel purge is a very real and tragic metaphor for the way modern life has gone.  Our need to bring nature to us, and our lack of ability to respectfully go into it with wonder, light  and love is alarming at best, and a failure to make good on our promise to maintain the earth's creature's at worst.  
      When I was 17 I first had the pleasure of listening to Dar Williams, and later saw her live at my college campus. Enchanted by her non-pretentiousness and sweet simplicity, storytelling and wit,  i went to get my CD signed.  For a brief moment, I saw a piece of my future self in her,  and and remember thinking, 'now there's a gal after my own heart!'.  She gave me the strength to be more me than I was willing to let others see.  She gave me hope that strength doesn't always dress to kill, and sometimes has a flower in it's hair. At the time I was embarking upon a life in the big apple, New York, abandoning my normal west-coast thrift store attire for a "chic" pleather jacket, tall black boots and facial expression to match. I'm not sure that I ever pulled it off.  Now that I'm in my 30's I wear what I like, and I like what I wear. Of course I'll still try anything once- be it instrument, color, food, look, sitting nook or pair of sunglasses... magic is in the learning.
 


* May all your days be merry and full of Magic *
 
 
 

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