Hello again! I trust you have enjoyed this Christmas season, with or without the crazy family dynamics and, shall we say, "interesting" moments where all or few are gathered. This was the second year that my husband and I were with his family for Christmas, and the second that we weren't with mine -- although last year my family blessed us with a gathering in November, which felt like our usual Christmas, complete with trimmed fir tree, the farmhouse decorated with lights, snow on the ground, and singing Christmas carols together as a family after sharing a meal together. I love those traditions! And, while my family certainly is far from perfect, I have always sensed a true joy radiating from them over the holidays -- not because of the material or commercial implications, but rather because of the opportunity it gives us to come together as family and encourage one another by our presence and, yes, sometimes also some small presents as well. Ahhh, homynyms!!!
At present I find myself with the usual holiday sinus cold, but despite the endless blowing and sneezing I am inspired to write. Why today and not on healthier days? Perhaps I become more reflective when my energies are not sufficient for running around or cleaning the house; perhaps I realize how inconsistent I've been in writing; perhaps I just find pure enjoyment in the act of writing... . I think all three are true. And so, let me grab a mug of steaming chai which I've got simmering on the stove (yes, it's a home made brew, complete with cardamom pods, cinnamon sticks, whole cloves, fresh ginger root, a wee bit of anise and peppercorns, a bit of green tea, and topped off with some milk and honey!), and we'll continue this reflecting together.
I have long been one who weaves in and out between happiness and melancholy. First off, I suppose I should establish what I mean by those two terms; while some might argue that its just semantics I am convinced that it is of utmost importance to begin any discussion with the working definition well intact so that all parties involved might understand clearly what is meant by the terms in question. That said, this "happiness" which I mentioned above is something that I'm still trying to pin down. To my thinking, a more accurate, and perhaps noble, goal is that of contentment. To be content signals a balance of peace, perspective, effort, patience, and acceptance. Does it include being happy? Does "happy" mean a perpetual smile on one's face? Optimism? Constant euphoria? I know that, when left to my own devices, I can slip into a state of brooding -- a state which I have affectionately termed my "Ecclesiastes Phase," for it is characterized by my feeling that "everything is meaningless!" -- but, on the whole, I am generally a content individual. (I must also insist here that I believe that contentment and complacency are to very divergent things -- and I shall never strive for the latter).
And so, I have grappled with the legitimacy and possible importance of this contemporary fad of seeking happiness. In all honesty, I was inspired to follow the idea of The Gratitude Project by Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project. I was feeling down, which, as I reflect back upon it as objectively as I might upon something in my own life, seems rather to be expected after a year of so many changes -- many of them positive, but some of them also difficult: moving to a different country and culture, then moving three times within that new country; leaving behind all friends and family save my wonderful husband; leaving behind a job and not having a new one here, as I still await acceptance for a work visa; and, what has hit me hardest -- and most surprisingly so, to me -- was the leaving behind of all social networks. Now, I am a true introvert in that I re-energize through time alone, but I also delight in the company of a few close friends and having the opportunity to be able to invite them over and share a coffee or dinner and, undoubtedly, wonderfully open and authentic conversation. Of course, there are also the daily acquaintances that one takes for granted -- the people I saw every morning and afternoon when they came in to get their morning cup of coffee or tea in the café where I worked, the hundreds of other students on campus and in my classes on weekdays, and the small community of friends at the church where I attended and directed music. And while there are moments when one feels they have too many social engagements or pressures (and I often felt this way), the entire and sudden absence of all is an incredible shock even to the introvert.
It has now been just over one year since I left my previous home to come to my new one, and as I look back I can see all the marvellous changes and the slow, mysterious workings of the Spirit and our ever-present God. And all the beauty and hope shines far brighter than the difficult moments and causes me to be thankful for all that surrounds me -- but I still need help in those bleak moments. And so I reflect, I seek a more eternal perspective rather than a self-centred present-day focus, and I write it out for you and for me. And underneath and on top of it all I am content -- not always elated, but often smiling and, even in the difficult moments, hopeful of the redemption that I know will work its way in and then work its way out.
1. Home -- I am grateful for a space to come to, a space which can reflect my life, a space to share with my husband and with others. I love to invite people in -- not huge crowds, but rather one or two people, or the occasional dozen or so -- and to bless them with food and music and a relaxing, inspiring environment. I am grateful for a roof over our heads, and one that hasn't been flooded as many homes have in Panama this month. And I am grateful that, despite the overuse of the cliché, home really is where the heart is -- where friends and family gather -- and that "home" can move around and be adaptable as needed.
2. Piano -- For as far back as I can remember, and then even farther, I have always been in love with the music that can be created on the piano. Such expression, life, creativity, diversity! And I find that my soul connects with something far deeper than the simple ebony and ivory when my hands come alive on the keys. I am grateful to have had parents who saw the importance of giving me piano lessons for more than a dozen years, grateful to my teachers who helped me to learn and to grow, and grateful for the opportunities I have had to share music with others from my heart.
3. Keipo -- Our dog Keipo is such a joy! He's my first dog (I was always partial to cats before him), but he certainly is setting a high bar for any potential dogs to come! Of course, we follow the formula of exercise, discipline and affection for him (inspired by el Encantador de Perros, or The Dog Whisperer, César Millán), and we have seen how he thrives on this routine! I love taking him for an early-morning walk, and many people in our neighbourhood, along with some of their dogs, are already familiar with him. I've even had people stop me on the street to ask whether we have taken him to a private trainer (which we haven't). And he's very playful and obedient, and he always keeps us laughing with his puppy antics! He reminds me not to take things too seriously, to stop and smell the roses (at least, that what I do while he's sniffing out other things!), and to enjoy life -- which truly is easier alongside him and my wonderful husband!
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