Magic Happens

I’m sitting here, listening to Phoebe Snow sing, “Merry Christmas, Baby” (from an album called Winter, Fire & Snow). It’s heartbreakingly beautiful. She has segued into Sinatra, then onto another and another.

The music of Christmas works. It creates and expands the magic that belongs to the season. So in spite of sorrow, poverty, loss and pain, there is magic. Lots and lots of magic to be found. In the simple, in the profound, the spiritual and the comfortable. Christmas Is. The magic lives.

Merry Christmas to you.

Advertisements

We Are The World…

We Are The World

We are the children…

Sending Christmas wishes to all. Peace on Earth, Good will to humans.

Osho Zen’s commentary on this wreath of humanity dancing is a lovely wish for us each to celebrate love in all its colors and flavors. Whatever spiritual path you follow, may the true meaning of Christmas be with you as you walk this holiday season.

When thousands and thousands of people around the earth are celebrating, singing, dancing, ecstatic, drunk with the divine, there is no possibility of any global suicide. With such festivity and with such laughter, with such sanity and health, with such naturalness and spontaneity, how can there be a war?… Life has been given to you to create, and to rejoice, and to celebrate. When you cry and weep, when you are miserable, you are alone. When you celebrate, the whole existence participates with you. Only in celebration do we meet the ultimate, the eternal. Only in celebration do we go beyond the circle of birth and death.   (Osho I Celebrate Myself Chapter 4)
 zz
Commentary:
Humanity is depicted here as a rainbow of beings, dancing around the mandala of the earth with their hands joined together in joy and gratitude for the gift of life. This card represents a time of communication, of sharing the riches that each of us brings to the whole. There is no clinging here, no grasping. It is a circle without fear of feelings of inferiority and superiority. When we recognize the common source of our humanity, the common origins of our dreams and longings, our hopes and fears, we are able to see that we are all joined together in the great miracle of existence. When we can combine our tremendous inner wealth to create a treasure of love and wisdom that is available to all, we are linked together in the exquisite pattern of eternal creation.
 

Blessings, Peace and Love! or, in other words:

Feliz Navidad ♦ Merry Christmas ♦ Joyeux Noel ♦ Natale allegro ♦ Boas Festas ♦ Glaedilig Jul ♦ Hauskaa Joulua!…

Corn Roasted in the Fire Pit

Yesterday I listed some of the great buys at the Farmer’s Market — but I forgot to mention fresh corn. Delicious, melt-in-your-mouth, squeaky-fresh white sweet corn. Roasted in the husk on the coals from a fire in the cast iron fire pit in the yard. Eaten at dusk, surrounded by incense, citronella candles, fireflies, cats, and the rumble of fireworks in the distance.

Little in life could have been better.

Prior to the feast, Josh trimmed some low branches around the place while I planted my new lavender, spread some compost and potted the last of the annuals in the patio containers. The air was just right, with a touch of moisture that has turned to rain this morning; the lingering heat from the afternoon keeping us moving slow and easy.

The breeze was just a touch, like a caressing hand on my face and neck, cooling and mellowing me.  I rested frequently, facing the back jungle of tree, scrub and vine. I watched a Downy Woodpecker as she skittered up and down a long trunk, stopping to tap here and there.

Cardinals, Jays, Mockingbirds, and Goldfinches were the main feeders as evening approached. They would scatter to the nearby trees and bushes when one of the cats strolled by, but they are largely blase at this time of year (ditto the cats). The Blue Jay calls the traditional warning, “Cat! Cat! Cat” and the cat twitches an annoyed ear and just walks slower, stretching insolently before leaping up on the next napping place.

It’s very quiet this morning. Just a soft rain, muted bird calls, and everyone else asleep. This is one of the loveliest holiday weekends I can remember. A perfect admixture of joy and quiet, serenity, laughter, good food, companionship, music, and only a faint nostalgic sorrow for what is gone.

Blessings to all this rainy Sunday.

And So It Is.