I've been keeping busy with holiday plans since Thanksgiving, and mostly it works to keep my spirits, if not high, at least a degree above lukewarm. Anything that can lift me out of the icy waters of constant political news is all to the good.
Sometimes there is good news sandwiched in between the bad. There are new innovations with incredible mushrooms, for instance, that have the ability to clean toxins from polluted dirt. And innovative young people are discovering amazing ways to reuse and recycle the mountains of trash our consumer economy gives us. Bees are finding ways to survive, thanks to many changes made in small ways by home gardners and cities all over the world. In my garden things are still blooming, even in December.
There's a pretty little camellia japonica that has for the first time this year produced several blossoms. She lives in a corner of the front garden that I rarely visit, and I was so happy to see her blooming her lovely little self. She's found her spot. Her roots have taken hold, and now she seems content and thriving. Her leaves are dusty. It's been dry here, and when the gardeners come they leave a fine dust that spreads easily in the wind. She doesn't seem to mind. She's a sturdy lady.
She reminds me that we are all survivors of so much trauma from the last five years. We have had sanity restored in some measure over the last three years. But you know what I mean, surely. The echoes of the pandemic and the political chaos that we are being faced with in the future have left us a bit shaky and uncertain of what comes next. We are covered with a fine dust of anxiety, and I, for one, find it hard to shake off. Perhaps a cleansing rain will come.
My attempts to come out from under that pesky dust will continue. Holidays are here! And I have had fun (which is a good antidote and cleansing for the soul) making a few ornaments, and soon I will be addressing Christmas cards and thinking of all of you. The tree is up, and gets a daily spritzing/misting of water to keep it fresh. I get a nice cleansing whiff of pine when that happens. Sometimes I look up and catch the dancing glimmering motes on a stream of light from the afternoon sun. I used to think of those motes as angel dust. Light changes everything.
The family is doing well, we are grateful for their clear light of exuberant youth and promise. All are looking forward to a break from work and school. Grandkids grow up so fast! This year the youngest is playing bass guitar in a band, the middle one is applying to colleges (please let her stay close to home!) and the oldest is thriving in her second year in college (close to home!) and is creating amazing works of art.
Wishing all of you pockets of joy, packets of peace, and huge helpings of loving connections. Let's replace that dusty dust with shimmers of light as we move into the new year. Light some candles. And look for the angels in every corner. You can see them if you try.