Stripping away the rose colored glasses of denial concerning my reality. Getting in touch with truth. Reaching out to others in empathy concerning their reality and their walk to truth.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

The Christmas Snow

When I was a child, pictures like this were everywhere. Soft glowing homes casting shadows on the lawns; maybe there was snow and a snowman in the yard. A large picture window displayed a huge tree, obnoxious to today’s green crowd. No lights on the trim of the home, just happy healthy glowing windows that told of everyone’s presence.

I’d bundle up, run out to my favorite tree and climb it; catching snowflakes on my tongue until I got a big enough taste, to taste the snow. More, more snow, I wanted more snow than the ground could hold. My little red coat allowed me to be found even when I hid so well that time behind the old grape vine. One, two, three, you’re out and I climbed my tree and watched the shadows dance on the snow.

Family and friends gathered around and in every room of the house; when would they all leave? They would come to the windows to see the snow and their shadows would cast outward and ruin my image of the blue fairy next to the water pump house. Go home and I can go to sleep and when I wake I can open something wonderful. Go home now.

Rubbing my eyes, almost knocked back by the siblings, I search for my glasses to begin my trek to the living room. There stands the most marvelous tree in the world. I helped pick it out and the ribbon for the packages matched the green boughs that held shimmering balls. Paper was already being strewn around the room and watch up for whirling toys. One brother got a little metal car with foot pedals. One brother got a huge heavy metal airplane with black wheels. Where was my train? I looked but there was no box. In a small chair sat a doll. A large doll and I reached to touch her. I could feel the coldness coming off of her arm. Dear lord, she was dead. I was so repulsed I could not believe it. And where was my train I’d asked Santa for? And what do you mean, “Trains aren’t for little girls?”

I had lots to think of, went to my room and dressed quickly. “Trains were not for girls. Dolls were not for boys.” What did that mean? What was I? Was I a boy, wanting a train or a girl, wanting a train? What was the difference? Did it matter? It must have, because the very next Christmas one of my brothers got the train I wanted. (But I wouldn’t know about that until the next year, right?)

Feeling tearful and a bit let down I fled the whirling toys of the whirling boys and hid in my tree. I wore my old brown coat so no one could see me in the snow. I was just a shadow. I was just a shadow of too many things to come that would repeat this same scenario; “you’re a girl and girls don’t do that; girls don’t get that.” My Mom called all to a big brunch, stepping out onto the porch, called me from my tree.

My Dad said I couldn’t go back out to the tree the rest of the day. I needed to stay in and enjoy family. And did I like the doll that Grandmother had picked out for me? The look on my Mom’s face said it all. (Like: “Did you forget Santa signed the card?) I was elated! My joy returned in full measure as I realized that Santa didn’t bring me the doll after all. So what did he bring me?

Christmas snow! I sat there and thought, wow, he answered my wish. I’d told him on Christmas that I’d be happy if all I got for Christmas was snow! When I was a child pictures like this were everywhere!

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

a seasonal thank you

A seasonal thank you to the writers or blogs that contributed to my success this year.

The WordPress group of Dellis/Mohandas/Lighque: A Citizen’s Tools, Graymarq, Omegetymon, Ravenscawl, Saffron Sights, Thnq, VinYettes, YO’Pinion Therapgraphics Arts.
The Blogspot* and Zimbio groups

A Day in the Life: Dave’s Progress

A jewel shining through: Julie

A Moody Mind: Matt

Arch-ing, DCRELIEF, Fort Knox is Empty: dcrelief

Blue Duck Copy

Dispatches from the Jazz Unit; Not another headache: LoverofJazz

KLAHANIE, Mental Health Matters: Klahanie

Me & My DoDo, THREIO: Threio

Paige Mann


Tone the Blueshawk: Tony

Wait Tila Commercial: Veronda


Thank you for you inspiration and help. I wish you all much success in 2009!

Monday, December 22, 2008

a season of greetings:

Here's a thought

The Americans today had a thought! Yes, those Americans that reside in middle America. You remember, from New York to California, that one! Yes, well they have decided to encase Christmas and the entire “spirit of the thing” in a spherical time capsule and have it orbit the moon. Astounding!

It was a bit late to get it on this year’s shuttle mission list, but come April 2009, there’s going to be a real “Santa” hanging on the moon. All total, there could be as many as 42 spheres sent into orbit. There’s a Santa’s workshop planned, a nativity with sixteen farm animals, and a small amusement park variety of rides.

At “Nasser,” the American space officials were all excited, except for Herb Johns. Mr. Johns is concerned that the camels will need more water than the moon provides. Second in charge, Josh Brown explained that “we could bring in water from Mars as soon as we thaw it out.” (What? Don’t mention Mars?) Oops.

So there you have it. In 2009 those who celebrate Christmas can purchase a spherical ride to the moon and have their holiday there.

( says they will have tickets ready to purchase by July 2009)

post script: do not write me nasty comments or stuff; this is a joke!

Sunday, December 21, 2008

A question I thought of

Why do I pick on me?

What is it that causes me to pick on myself, not allowing myself to experience great immeasurable joy? That’s it. That’s all I have to say right now.

Heal your regret

A small place,
a lone space
my prayers do I say.
Then seagulls come and join me
we rush to our play.

The sun comes up glowing
and gentle winds rise.
I stand on my own
yet learn from the wise.

Do not take too much
do not leave here cold.
Embers now glowing
will pepper your soul.

Return every time
your heart becomes wet.
And find all the lone space
that heals your regret.