Saturday, December 28, 2013

The Day After

It feels like the day after an atomic blast minus the complete and utter ruination of body, mind, soul and property. Wreckage abounds but all is quiet on the western front. Christmas presents have been opened and trash cans overflow with wrapping paper and cardboard boxes. The content spilled from this wastage varies. Some is useless junk received with artificial squeals of "it's perfect" while others delight in new gadgets that make life more efficient, swift, pleasurable, or difficult to manage when premature planned obsolescence sets in.

What does all this celebratory hoohah really mean?

If people came together with gratitude, love, and an appreciation for our human connection, triggered by the notion that Christmas time appears more special than any other time, then that's a good thing. If the holiday represents a dreaded time of familial suffering or severe loneliness, then why bother with a tradition gone south.

In any event, the Balinese, who are decidedly not Christian, have it right at least in one small sector of social mores. Daily, the highways and byways of life are suffused with tender offerings of fruit and flowers, displayed for the delight of divine presences. Left on sidewalks in front of dwelling after dwelling, these lovely offerings abound in the most natural manner. They represent a sense of daily celebration, a nod to sacred life as the sun kisses the earth every morning.

Real or imagined, when every day becomes Christmas - or an offering to life divine - we will have arrived.

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