Merry Christmas. Bring on the Light

I watched a movie the other day called The Christmas Cottage.  In the movie the words “even in the darkest night, a small light has something to share.”  These words resonated with me over and over again.   My take on that strong sentence was that everyone no matter how big or small has something to share or give.

A smile, a pat of the back, a nod or a hello to a stranger can mean so much.  You may not know this person really has a need to be acknowledged and actually seen.  Perhaps the person feels unloved or invisible.  Kind gestures  can make a difference in someone’s day or life. Lending a helping hand to someone who is unable, preparing a meal for someone who is hungry, taking an interest in an elderly person who has no one to share with, are just a few examples of things we can do to bring on the light stronger.

We are so caught up in the buying, that we forget that Christmas is not just a holy holiday, but should be a lifestyle.  Its message is giving, sharing with others, with no return required.  It is a feeling of gratitude for what we have, and a chance to share that gratitude with someone who may not be so fortunate.

The world can be just a little more kinder, a little more gentle, if only we remember that WE are the light in the darkness, and it doesn’t take much to brighten the world no matter how small or big our world is.  We are all one in this universe.  We are all connected by spirit and energy.  If we all channel this ideal, what light the world would have!

Merry Christmas everyone!  I would like you to share in the comment section how you share your light throughout the year.


The Alter and the Moment

“Time is like a river. You cannot touch the same water twice because the flow that has passed will never pass again. Enjoy every moment of life.” Author unknown

I sit in the calmness of my personal alter.  I light my lavendar scented candle- I’m told that its essence is very calming.  I love the smell of it, so perhaps the media hype is correct on that score.  On top of the pastel colored alter are many pictures of past loves, artifacts of good memories,  my deceased family members with small mementos around them– the ball my dad and I played catch with, the fan my grandmother made me to keep me cool in the summer.  I miss them all, but having their totems is a comfort to me. I don’t live in the past, but at times these past memories soothe me and make me appreciate my present moment.

I’m moving my mind to warm breezes and radiant sunsets.  I’m transported to a high place and am looking down on creation.  I see the hawk swooping as he makes his target of a small mountain goat, the river below white from churning froth and fighting tides.  It’s quiet here other than  the hollow  sounds of the wind that rushes past and blows my hair from side to side.  I hear the whip of it, and feel the slap of it against my face. The sun is hot and is settled on my back.  I feel its heat as it radiates down my naked body.  The warmth of it cures my pain and takes it away to drift with the winds and sand below.

It smells dry in this place. My eyes move beside me and coming this way is another traveler.  He carries a back pack on him, and stumbles towards my place of sanctuary.

“Mind if I sit down for a spell?”  I’ve been traveling for hours and I’m quite weary.”

He sits before I can answer and takes off his backpack. The sound of it falling to the hard ground hurts my ears from its rough sound.  The dust rises from its fall.  He quickly opens his package and pulls out a thermos.

“Want some coffee?,” he asks.  I just shake my head and roll my eyes.

“Geeze, man.  Can’t you see I’m trying to get in some quiet time?  What’s your deal?’

He nods and wipes the sweat off his forehead with a dirty handkerchief.  He doesn’t say a word as he focuses on pouring his cup of coffee.  “Aw, good stuff.” he says as he ignores me.  “Sure you don’t want any?”

I shake my head, thank him and tell him “no, I’m a tea person.  Coffee is bad for the indigestion.”

He ignores that comment as well and again reaches inside the backpack.  He pulls out a notepad and a pen and starts writing.

“Hey, don’t think you are staying here to write your memoirs.  This is my space.”

“This is a big land- as big as the eye can see.  You chose this space for me.  I am  your present moment.  You put me here.  I did not come of my own freewill. Do what you will with me.  It is not for me to decide.”

Wow, a cold chill took over me.  I looked outside my window to the falling snow, and the sound of the harsh winter winds.  I looked at my alter, and there sitting next to my candle was a pen and cup of coffee.  I guess I better get to work and write.  This is my moment.