It is, as the song tells us, the most wonderful time of the year. Except when it's not. Christmas can be a stressful time. The financial pressures of buying gifts can be too much for people who are barely getting by. The sadness of that first Christmas after a loved one passes away. The pressure applied by family members who want you to be in three different cities on Christmas day. The stress women put on themselves to have the perfect meal, the perfectly set table, the perfect Christmas tree. Our culture sets the bar really high for merriment and jolliness, and feeling neither merry nor jolly, we decide there must be something wrong with us.
Like all things in life, Christmas is what you make it to be. It is completely open to your own unique interpretation of it. When you take away the expectation of what you think it should be, because your parents did it a certain way, or your culture celebrates it a certain way, you can begin to make Christmas truly your own. I personally don't celebrate the religious aspects of the holiday, but I adore Christmas. A Hindu woman I met is blending our American Christmas into her life and ethnicity. She started out doing it for her children, so they would have a tree and presents and Santa Claus like the other kids, but she is really finding joy in it for herself as well.
What is Christmas to me? The magical fantasy of Charles Dickens and Charles Schulz. Red and green and blue and silver. The tinsel in the carpet and the raw cookie dough on my tongue. Shopping for gifts for my grandkids: getting them what they want and not what I think would be the most fun for me to play with. Remembering all the people, near and far, who are dear to me. Believing, really believing, in peace on earth and good will to men. Maybe not throughout the world (not yet) but making it a reality in my own life. Hearing Elvis sing "Blue Christmas" and watching innumerable you tube videos of "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas."
There is no perfect Christmas. It doesn't exist, no matter how much money you spend or how much stress you put yourself under. You will never have the perfect Christmas. But you can have a Christmas that is perfect for you.
Susan
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
No Strings Attached
"There are two kinds of people: takers and givers. The takers eat better, but the givers sleep better." Danny Thomas
Gift giving is such a fun part of the holidays. Buying or making something special for those we love is a real joy. Many times the best gifts are not the ones that cost the most, but the ones that say the most. I love you. I remembered you. I know you well enough to know what you would love to have.
It's not truly a gift unless it's given freely with absolutely no strings attached. If you give a gift with the expectation of something in return, why that is no gift at all. It's currency. Some folks give, but their gifts come at a very high price for the recipient. An imbalance of power in the relationship. A sense of obligation. A feeling of being controlled. These can be subtle messages, and sometimes the giver is not even aware that he is conveying that message.
Are you a giver? I love to give, but lately I have been examining my motives for doing so. I have been picking up those shiny packages that I give to others, turning them all around and shaking them, just to make sure there are no strings attached.
Susan
Gift giving is such a fun part of the holidays. Buying or making something special for those we love is a real joy. Many times the best gifts are not the ones that cost the most, but the ones that say the most. I love you. I remembered you. I know you well enough to know what you would love to have.
It's not truly a gift unless it's given freely with absolutely no strings attached. If you give a gift with the expectation of something in return, why that is no gift at all. It's currency. Some folks give, but their gifts come at a very high price for the recipient. An imbalance of power in the relationship. A sense of obligation. A feeling of being controlled. These can be subtle messages, and sometimes the giver is not even aware that he is conveying that message.
Are you a giver? I love to give, but lately I have been examining my motives for doing so. I have been picking up those shiny packages that I give to others, turning them all around and shaking them, just to make sure there are no strings attached.
Susan
A Cup of Cheer
It's the time of year for hot apple cider, spicy sweet tea and peppermint mocha coffee. And hot chocolate. With whipped cream on top, of course. As far back as I can remember, another important part of Christmas has been the red kettles and bell ringers standing on street corners and in front of markets. Yesterday, we had some unusual weather where I live. It was gray and cold and raining very hard. Shoppers were rushing in and out of the stores, trying to avoid the weather. He was standing under an awning, but still it was cold and damp and the rain was coming down sort of sideways so he was getting a little wet. He was ringing the bell and smiling and saying, "Merry Christmas," even when no one put money in the kettle. Even when no one "Merry Christmased" him back.
My first thought was that I should get him a hot drink. I didn't act on it instantly, because I was cold and tired and eager to hop in Pink and get home. But soon I obeyed my initial impulse and walked over to the nearby coffee shop. I bought him a cup of hot chocolate. Everyone likes hot chocolate, right? With whipped cream on top, of course. I carried the cup to him and held it out. "Here's some hot chocolate. To keep you warm," I said. I didn't tell him there was whipped cream on it. I let that be a surprise. He looked at me for a few seconds, then took the cup and said, "Wow. Thank you." I said, "Merry Christmas" and hurried on my way.
I need to tell you this story, but not to toot my own horn. It was such a small thing for me to do. It cost me ten minutes out of my day and two dollars out of my pocket. I need to tell you this story, because of the expression on his face. He was shocked. The look on his face told me that strangers don't offer him cups of hot chocolate on a regular basis.
If such a small gesture causes such a reaction, then I need to be obeying my initial impulses of kindness much more often. And not just at Christmas. Kindness should not happen so rarely that it engenders such shock and awe.
Now I have a question for you. Who is it today that could use a cup of cheer from you?
Susan
My first thought was that I should get him a hot drink. I didn't act on it instantly, because I was cold and tired and eager to hop in Pink and get home. But soon I obeyed my initial impulse and walked over to the nearby coffee shop. I bought him a cup of hot chocolate. Everyone likes hot chocolate, right? With whipped cream on top, of course. I carried the cup to him and held it out. "Here's some hot chocolate. To keep you warm," I said. I didn't tell him there was whipped cream on it. I let that be a surprise. He looked at me for a few seconds, then took the cup and said, "Wow. Thank you." I said, "Merry Christmas" and hurried on my way.
I need to tell you this story, but not to toot my own horn. It was such a small thing for me to do. It cost me ten minutes out of my day and two dollars out of my pocket. I need to tell you this story, because of the expression on his face. He was shocked. The look on his face told me that strangers don't offer him cups of hot chocolate on a regular basis.
If such a small gesture causes such a reaction, then I need to be obeying my initial impulses of kindness much more often. And not just at Christmas. Kindness should not happen so rarely that it engenders such shock and awe.
Now I have a question for you. Who is it today that could use a cup of cheer from you?
Susan
Thursday, December 1, 2011
I Got a Name
The name Susan was second only to Mary in popularity for girls the year I was born, according to the Social Security Administration. From 1948 until 1964, Susan was in the top twenty every single year. When I was a kid, I wasn't all that fond of my name, precisely for that reason. How unoriginal my parents were, I thought. Such a common name. It would have been cool to be a Stacey or a Stephanie. But as the years have gone by, I have grown to love my name. I'm Susan, Susie, Sue, Suzie, Soozie and Sue Z Q. It's who I am. It is my name.
I had the option of having my maiden name automatically restored when I divorced. I didn't do that. My last name is who I am. It was my former husband's name, which I gladly took when I married him. Then it became who I am. It is my name.
During this time of year, we remember all the people close to us, with gifts and cards. But what about those who make up the landscape of our lives? The woman who packs our groceries. The man who collects our garbage. The mail carrier, who is overworked during the holiday season, delivering packages and Christmas cards. Certainly they would enjoy getting a little extra cash or a gift card or a homemade treat. Which brings me to another point. Do we even know their names? They have names. What a great opportunity Christmas gives us to introduce ourselves and then to discover who they are.
Susan
Lyrics to "I Got a Name" by Norman Gimbel and Charles Fox
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Giving Thanks or Living Thanks?
She bubbled as she said,"You can wish me a happy birthday! I'm 51." I rarely ever find another adult as excited about her birthday as I am about mine, so feeling as though I'd found a kindred spirit, I enthusiastically wished her a happy birthday. I told her that I was 53, and felt very lucky to be here, since some don't make it to be our age.
"Well, then you'll appreciate this story," she said. "When I was 34, I was diagnosed with stage 4* breast cancer. I was basically given a death sentence by the doctors."
"And here you are, seventeen years later," I said. She was the very picture of good health...shiny hair, sparkling bright blue eyes, and a glowing complexion. She was in a word, radiant. "That explains why you are so happy," I added.
She nodded. "Yeah. Even when I have a really bad day, I just get up the next morning and say, 'Okay. Let's try this again.'"
Happy Thanksgiving.
Susan
*Stage 4 is the most advanced stage of cancer
"Well, then you'll appreciate this story," she said. "When I was 34, I was diagnosed with stage 4* breast cancer. I was basically given a death sentence by the doctors."
"And here you are, seventeen years later," I said. She was the very picture of good health...shiny hair, sparkling bright blue eyes, and a glowing complexion. She was in a word, radiant. "That explains why you are so happy," I added.
She nodded. "Yeah. Even when I have a really bad day, I just get up the next morning and say, 'Okay. Let's try this again.'"
Happy Thanksgiving.
Susan
*Stage 4 is the most advanced stage of cancer
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Fat Cats
College football is big business. I've believed for a long time that college athletes should be paid a salary. It's true that they receive a free college education in exchange for playing a sport, yet it's nothing compared to the money universities make off them. In addition to the criminal charges leveled against alleged rapist Jerry Sandusky, I hope the victims bring civil proceedings against Penn State to hold it accountable. All the money in the world would never compensate a child for being raped, but money is the only language these fat cats seem to speak.
Authority figures at every level failed these children, and there are so many accomplices to Sandusky's crimes it is difficult to keep a count. The most visible accomplice is larger-than-life legend Joe Paterno himself. He was never going to retire. I always imagined him passing away suddenly one Saturday afternoon in autumn, right there on the sidelines of the football field. So I suppose being fired was the worst thing that could happen to him, yet it's nothing compared to the rape of these children.
If civil lawsuits are filed, the fat cats will be eager to settle out of court. The victims have already suffered so much that they might not want to relive the horror all over again with a civil trial, so maybe a financial settlement from the school will feel like justice to them. Any way it happens, they deserve justice since they got no mercy.
I imagine that over the past few days, there have been lots of men and women in suits conferring nervously with lawyers and talking about damage control there in State College, Pennsylvania. This bombshell had to have given the fat cats a heart attack. Yet it's nothing compared to the rape of these children.
Susan
Lyrics to "Uprising" by Matthew Bellamy
Friday, November 4, 2011
The Accomplice
"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." Edmund Burke
Have you seen the video of the family law judge from Texas beating his 16-year-old daughter with a belt? Now 23, she says this was not an isolated instance, and she is releasing the secretly taped video so her father "can get all the help he needs." He says, "In my mind, I didn't do anything wrong." She says; he says. I think there are a number of reasons corporal punishment is wrong, but the fact is, it is legal and a majority of Americans believe in it and practice it. But even if you are in the pro-spanking camp, I think you will be disturbed by the video, and it's not just the severity of what the father refers to as a "spanking." His rage, his profanity, his lack of control push it over the line into abuse. It is ironic that in his profession, he presides over child abuse cases.
But let's not demonize the father unless we are going to draw horns on the mother's head as well. She participates in the ordeal, at one point yelling at her daughter to "lay down and take it like a grown woman." Now divorced from the judge, the mother says she "did everything he did." That makes me think she also beat the girl.
For every abuser, there is an enabler. Perhaps not fully participating like Hallie Adams, but complicit in the act as well. She might go into another room, she might whistle Dixie so she can't hear it, she might look the other way, she might pretend she doesn't know, she might pretend it never happened. By not ending it, she perpetuates it. So who is worse? The abuser or the one who doesn't step in to stop it? There doesn't seem to be a lot of difference to me.
Susan
Have you seen the video of the family law judge from Texas beating his 16-year-old daughter with a belt? Now 23, she says this was not an isolated instance, and she is releasing the secretly taped video so her father "can get all the help he needs." He says, "In my mind, I didn't do anything wrong." She says; he says. I think there are a number of reasons corporal punishment is wrong, but the fact is, it is legal and a majority of Americans believe in it and practice it. But even if you are in the pro-spanking camp, I think you will be disturbed by the video, and it's not just the severity of what the father refers to as a "spanking." His rage, his profanity, his lack of control push it over the line into abuse. It is ironic that in his profession, he presides over child abuse cases.
But let's not demonize the father unless we are going to draw horns on the mother's head as well. She participates in the ordeal, at one point yelling at her daughter to "lay down and take it like a grown woman." Now divorced from the judge, the mother says she "did everything he did." That makes me think she also beat the girl.
For every abuser, there is an enabler. Perhaps not fully participating like Hallie Adams, but complicit in the act as well. She might go into another room, she might whistle Dixie so she can't hear it, she might look the other way, she might pretend she doesn't know, she might pretend it never happened. By not ending it, she perpetuates it. So who is worse? The abuser or the one who doesn't step in to stop it? There doesn't seem to be a lot of difference to me.
Susan
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