Work With Hope

I am currently reading a novel entitled, The Ten Thousand Doors of January. It is one type of novel that I enjoy, while always being secretly a bit concerned that it isn’t literary or serious enough for me. I suppose one might call it fantasy (I can feel the rolling eyes as I write this) though I might classify it as metaphorical or even allegorical fiction. Yes, events happen that do not happen in my world, but these happenings are all pointing to truths and themes that are central to the heart, and nothing essential in the story is in any way foreign, or fantastic.

The novel is structured as a book within a book, and protagonists of each story search for doors which serve as gateways to other realities. The two protagonists, both women, escape more mundane worlds for a search for something better. The basic metaphor of character leaving the safety of mediocrity or persecution to search for a greater world is essentially the hero’s journey, but the intricacies of each character bring different colors and individual significance and meaning to the parallel stories. It’s not great literature, but I am enjoying the experience of reading each page and the doorways my mind enters as the plot proceeds.

Is there a better metaphor in literature and in life than the doorway? A barrier between spaces is transversed, but only by leaving one reality behind and entering a new one, constant loss and gain. Some doorways require effort (or a key)while others are passed though without even a notice Some doorways are passed in entrance, and others in leaving, and some doorways are impassible, for a while, or for forever.

Think about all the doorways you have passed through today (many more than once). I just did a rough count and I know I went through more than 15 doorways (and one gate) between the time I woke up this morning and the time I left the house less than an hour later. I must admit that I had to just recreate my movements in my mind because I had no actual sense of doing this. Yet each movement had meaning, and the many goings and comings brought me to where I am right now, in a plane flying from San Francisco to Albuquerque.

Now, I recognize that I have reached the age where more often than I’d like, I go through a door only to realize that I don’t know why I’m there or whether I was going or coming. But even these involuntary transports have the affect of bringing me into a different place…confused, but in a different place.

There are a couple of doors I remember noticing as I went through and feeling their import. I remember most of the first times I entered the places where I lived and how the potential of being there suddenly became the actual. I remember entering the door of the old diocesan center on my first day as superintendent (I also remember leaving through the glass doors of the new diocesan center on my last). I remember the click of the key in the lock on the red door of my parent’s house as I left it for the last time a few weeks ago. But most passages go without awareness.

Leaving behind and moving ahead, doorways are a gift. Whether they are crossed in joy, anticipation, fear, sorrow, or apathy, doorways are a daily metaphor for every moment of our lives. Let’s take a day to be conscious of doorways. When going through a door think just for a second, “What am I leaving?” or “What and I going toward?” This little exercise may help me (and maybe you) to notice the lives we are living just a tiny bit more.

…and no, I have never found (or looked for) a secret door to a strange world…though I will be exit this plane into Albuquerque, does that count?

Note: The door pictured is from St Joseph Mission School in San Fidel, NM

I’m leaving on a trip at 6:30 in the morning, which means I’ll have to wake up at 4:30 to get ready and go. So I will cheat today and say five things for which I am grateful.

1. I am grateful that this is my last trip of the calendar year after which I will be home for more than three weeks.
2. I am grateful for this night to sleep in my bed. I’ve been in three “homes” and countless beds in the past year, and I always love the feeling of my own bed.
3. I am grateful for the fact that my back and neck pain have reduced a bit over the last three weeks.
4. I am grateful for the Pancho’s tacos I had for dinner, the absolute best crispy tacos I have ever eaten.
5. I am grateful that I have 17 more days to write more substantial posts than this.

Sleep well, all.

Some may remember that last year my friend Andrea and I traded challenges, each of us writing on themes we alternated choosing. We’re going to try it again this year, and for our first theme, Andrea chose Advent Calendar

I’ve written several times about Advent calendars, and to some extent this whole exercise is a type of Advent calendar for me and for anyone who reads. I’ve talked about traditions and customs and the wide variety of calendars …take it from me, do not Google “Adult Advent calendar”! But today I’d like to think a bit of the underpinning philosophy that guides calendar design and the fundamental flaw in Advent calendar logic.

The first Advent calendar we had as kids only revealed pictures for each day, and it is a sad comment on my childhood that we anxiously gathered and fought for the opportunity to reveal the tiny picture behind the door. However, even with this sad calendar, there was a clear progression of doors and pictures, as the doors got bigger and the pictures became more ornate as each day passed, until in the week before Christmas we had left behind sleds and footballs and were blessed to reveal full-fledged angels, kings, and camels. The twenty-fourth was of course a picture of the manger scene, as if anyone couldn’t see that coming!

Gift Advent calendars employ the same logic, beginning with tiny treats and eventually growing to a cavalcade of fabulous prizes. Anyone looking to find the best thing on an AC simply skips over all the prosaic starters and jumps to the big reveal at the end. The message is clear, the month of December is intended to follow a progression of growing joy and excitement, climaxing on Christmas Day.

But is this reality? Do our journeys toward Christmas (or to any anticipated event) truly follow a geometric progression of growing joy? I know that the season of Advent is intended to represent, the generations of waiting for the first Christmas, but a quick look through the history books of the Old Testament show this line to be anything but straight. I think our journeys through the season are far less orderly than what is reflected in the traditional Advent calendar.

So a better calendar might be interspersed with great things and painful things and mundane things. Some doors should be full to the brim with every ounce of the Christmas spirit, egg nog should flow from the door when opened. Other doors should reveal nothing, because that’s exactly what one is feeling at the moment. Better still, we should retroactively design our own Advent calendars with content to meet our true experiences.

Hey, I think that is what this is!

So here is my proposal for a few of the dates in my Anarchic Calendar

Last night Taylor and I walked from Rockefeller Center to 28th Street. We saw the Christmas tree, the light show on Sacs 5th Ave, Macy’s, and countless store windows and lights. Our destination for this walk was a restaurant called Oscar Wilde’s where we had dinner.

Wild(e) is an understatement for the decor. It felt like a Victorian drawing room, a New Orleans brothel, and an Las Vegas showroom somehow all materialized in the same space. Their were mismatched decorations on every inch of every wall. Couple this with the added Christmas decorations, and our senses were over stimulated while our palates were satisfied. The restaurant was the epitome of the Mick Jagger line, “Anything worth doing is worth overdoing.”

I acknowledge the irony of using a quotation from anyone but the man himself in describing the eponymous restaurant. Wilde is known for two things, the second of which is his aphorisms.

After I returned to my hotel after dinner (and a wonderful visit to a jazz club) I decided to read through a collection of Wilde quotations. A witty turn of phrase might be the most beautiful creation of the human being. Even if I disagree with a person, I can forgive anything for smart and funny.

After enjoying several hundred jabs and judgments (how did he have time to do anything else?) I decided on one to use in my post for the day.

“I am not young enough to know everything“

As I limp into my seventh decade and my sixty-first Christmas, I sometimes miss the young me. That person knew what was wrong with the world, with the country, with you, and could quickly articulate what needed to be done. Today, even when I know things are wrong, I have no idea what to do about anything. I know how I want to be and act, but I so quickly see contradictions in the world and in myself, that part of my wants to declare a separate peace and go live in a cabin by the lake. I once wanted to change the world, I wonder how much longer I’ll be able to change my socks without questioning my choices and motivations.

I watch the talking types on TV, and I wonder how anyone can hold any opinion so strongly as to express it on television. I’m pretty sure that things are bad, but I’m less certain about what if anything can be done…

I wonder what Oscar would have said

Quick post today because I’m spending the day visiting my daughter in NY. It’s cold, but not snowing, so we are doing the full tourist Christmas experience: MOMA, Bryant Park, The Library (both the actual library and a wonderful restaurant in the Nomad Hotel, Rockefeller Center, streets with lights and excitement, and noise, and laughter, and cursing. There is nothing to compare with this city at Christmas time, especially spending the day with my Taylor-tot!

No doubt what I’m grateful for today.

As my plane landed in Denver today, making my way to NYC, I received a text from the airline. My 3:30 flight has been delayed by and hour and a half, not completely unexpected at this time of year. When one travels quite a bit, one learns to be somewhat stoic about delays. It happens, and life goes out of one’s control for a bit. Sometimes it is a pleasure to let go and just see what happens.

Apart from that, as we taxied to the gate, my first thought was, “Time for a visit to the United Club!”

When I started traveling full time, I paid for TSA Precheck and the United Club, and I have made no wiser investments during these two years. No matter the airport (as long as it’s large enough) the United Club is a bit of civility in an ocean of chaos.

The ability to have a comfortable seat, with easy access to power outlets pays for itself every time. There are food, drinks and coffee available, and though simple (and repetitive), I can’t calculate how much this has saved me in airport food over the years. Today I have enjoyed a bowl of tortilla soup with corn muffins (and cookies and chocolate milk to celebrate National Cookie Day!). Though I will arrive late into New York, I don’t have to get food before going to the hotel.

It is an oasis to step out of the travel chaos for a few minutes. Now, should such bastions of privilege exist? Wouldn’t it be more just for everyone to have the same airport experience?

I don’t know…but today, I am truly grateful.

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: National Cookie Day Treat

I almost forgot to write my post this evening, because I was carried away with one of my greatest guilty pleasures on the Internet. I have to come out and admit it, for this obsession claims hours of my time as I go from site to site and video to video. Though I make promises to myself to limit my time or to just stay away, I always find myself going back.

My friends, I am addicted to British panel shows.

Though they are both based on games, a British panel show and an American game show could not be more different. On the shows I watch, the contestants are not “ordinary civilians,” but comedians or other celebrities. The games are used not primarily as a true competition, but as a launching pad for jokes, insults, and anecdotes. Finally, the scoring systems can be exact, arbitrary, or essentially non-existent, because the winner isn’t important and there is no prize except bragging rights for a week. A group of bright, funny people discussing interesting facts and ideas…it’s my view of heaven,

There are many of these shows available in clips and full episodes on YouTube, but my favorite has always been QI. The show has been around for over sixteen years, hosted originally by Stephen Fry, and currently by Sandy Toksvig. Each week four comedians are quizzed about arcane facts from all areas of general knowledge, and they are rewarded points for correct answers (though no one connected to the show can explain how many) and are punished with a klaxon when they give a predictable wrong answer (Hint here: If the question is “How many moons does the earth have?” You can be certain to be klaxoned for the answer “One”)

More enjoyable than the base questions, which are often fascinating…did you know that “Jingle Bells” was written as a Thanksgiving song…is the banter between the contestants and between contestants and host. Since there are no real prizes, the only “reward” is laughter and applause from the audience. The hosts and contestants have a witty intelligent conversation, and this is shown on television as entertainment!

Now I must warn you before you fall into my addiction that British television humor can often be more racy than what is found on network or basic cable TV in America. They use words in ordinary language that would be truly scandalous to our virginal American ears. But if you can manage the language, you are in for a treat.

I can’t think of anything in America that is like this. Talk shows are about individuals, game shows are about money and prizes, reality shows are about everything but reality. Nothing I have seen on American television has the wit, the intelligence, and the excitement of a British panel show, and I am grateful I have this access through YouTube to these joyful reveries.

As always, I welcome your questions.

Image:  https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b03njv5y

I had to take care of some business at the bank today. As I was leaving, the manager said to me, “If I don’t see you, Merry Christmas!” It was the first Christmas greeting I have received, and it reminded me that we have entered “In-between Time.”

The Monday after Thanksgiving is one of the strangest Mondays of the year. Most return to jobs after a four day weekend, and it would be expected to feel like coming back after a vacation. Work may be nice, but wasn’t it nice to be away for a while?

But somehow no. The Monday after Thanksgiving is the beginning of “In-between Time,” a time between holidays that feels different from any other stretch of the year. This is particularly true in the school world, where two to three weeks of work are prelude to a two week vacation, but it is felt in offices across the work spectrum.

The “In-between Time” is the true opening of the Christmas season. Though stores want it (much) earlier and strict “Adventists” (though who insist that Christmas shouldn’t be celebrated until the day) want it later, there seems to be a general agreement among rational people that it is ok to start feeling and showing the Christmas spirit. Decorations start to appear in offices, people start to discuss plans, and you start hear holiday greetings.

Not as much work gets done as in other times in the year. People spend much of their time at work mentally preparing (and sometimes actually preparing) the many things that need to be done. There are parties and luncheons, and more silliness than is tolerated for the rest of the year. Long after we have left school, there is a part of the heart that knows, Christmas vacation is coming.

For me, the first appearance of holiday decorations (once Thanksgiving has past, and I no longer have to view them with righteous indignation) during “In-between Time” is a truly happy moment for me every year. I’m certain this is not true for all, but for me, these precious few weeks are a yearly playground for the soul for which I am grateful. Not Thanksgiving, not yet Christmas, but something in-between.

As always, I welcome your comments.

Image: https://christmas.365greetings.com/christmas-decoration/office-christmas-decorations.html

December 1 again. I have to admit that I haven’t even thought about this yearly blogging exercise until someone mentioned it to me this morning. And though my first inclination was to let it disappear like so many things in life, a day of thought has brought me around to my iPad and my much-neglected web site.

This will make the eighth year I’ve written one post a day from now until Christmas Eve. At one point I wrote several times during the year as well, but in recent years I’ve been limited to these twenty-four posts. When I open the website to begin, it feels like bringing the Christmas boxes down once again as I’m greeted with the traces of Christmases past, a little tinsel, lights that need to be tested, ornaments that for some reason weren’t used last year, and glitter that I can’t get off my hands as many times as I wash them.

One of the main reasons why I considered letting this holiday tradition die (or at least hibernate) this year is that I’ve never felt that I’ve had less to give. So many changes in the past year, from losing my father, to changing my living arrangements (twice), to feeling the weight of age in my bones (and my back), and so many other changes and losses, even from last December to this. 2019 has not been a great year for me and many that I care about, and I wondered how I could bring anything to this exercise except whining.

However, I have been reminded that in the midst of these challenges, I have a lot to be grateful for. Gratitude is a light that shines in darkness and turns nothing into something. And this is my opportunity in 2019, to shine the light of gratitude on my life through this advent season so I and everyone who reads this will see how blessed a life can be in the not best of times.

So this year (even though I have always resisted having a theme) each of my thoughts and discoveries will be viewed through the prism of gratitude, and I hope over these days that I (and maybe you?) will in fact be grateful for these twenty-four silly posts. I’m excited that my friend Andrea has agreed to do our “dueling blogposts” again this year…more on that next weekend.

So, let’s begin…

I just returned from an afternoon by myself at the Mount Palomar Winery in Temecula. Earlier this year I joined the wine club for this winery in order to receive two bottles every two months. I barely ever drink the wine at home, so I usually give my bottles away as gifts. But the true gift of membership is the ability to go up and taste wine (or have a glass) up to four times a month. I can’t get up there nearly enough to take advantage of my tastings, even when I share with friends, but every time I do go, it’s a wonderful experience. The grounds are so beautiful in every season of the year, and the act of sitting and enjoying a glass of wine, or tasting in the cellar, is an experience that can draw me from the larger world of complications and bring me to that moment, that taste, the look of wine in the glass.

Of course on Sunday afternoons they always have music which assists in these mini vacations of the soul. It’s a wonderful place to people watch and to wonder what stories, happy and sad, are going on around me. The winery also hosts weddings, and it can be fun to watch the pomp and circumstance while sitting in my simplicity. There is also a wonderful restaurant, but sometimes a glass of wine is enough.

I am lucky to have discovered the Mount Palomar Winery, and though my feelings for it are complicated and overlaid with other memories and regrets, it never fails to be a retreat for my soul. I am grateful for the twisted path that brought me there today.

As always I welcome your comments

Photo: Mt Palomar Winery 12/1/2019

I put a bow on my Christmas preparations this morning…literally. I made bows for the gifts I will be giving in the next days. One of the many skills I was taught by my mother was hand-tying bows. Though I have used stick-on bows, I know in my heart of hearts that no present is complete unless it has a hand-tied bow.

There are essentially three steps to tying a bow. The loops of ribbon are wound and tapered at the ends. The loops are them flattened and tied tight with a thin strip of ribbon (this ribbon strip is also used to attach the completed bow to the package). Finally each loop is pulled out, pinched, and set in place. The bow is complete and, if one is fortunate, beautiful.

The glory of the bow obviously is the loops. However, it is the thin strip of ribbon, which should be invisible, that actually makes the bow possible. The tie in the center holds the bow together and creates the tension that allows the loops to be twisted in place. After the bow is finished, it is the ribbon strips that attach it to the package. The least glamorous part of the bow is in many ways most essential.

Our lives too, even if they are as showy and complex as loops of ribbon, are dependent on “ribbon strips” to hold them together. Whether these strips are the people in our lives,other comforts (sometimes one of my best ribbon strips is a good cup of coffee), or even our own inner convictions, they provide the support we need to function and occasionally to shine.

So my Christmas wish for you this year is that you may have “ribbon strips” to support you, connect you, and to let you shine. Whatever form they may take, and whether they are seen or unseen, may your 2019 be blessed with hidden strength that ties everything together.

Merry Christmas!