Truth In Advertising

Sometimes a picture says it all.

We were living in Seattle, and my sister and I decided to take our daughters to the mall for a photo with Santa. Can you picture it? Long lines of parents with antsy little ones hyped up on sugar, “Santa” dressed in his well-worn costume, a photographer who’d rather be doing almost anything else, and parents who want to capture the magic of the season in the perfect photo. Good luck with that.

However, when it comes to Christmas and all the pressure to get it exactly right, this picture seems perfect to me, because it tells the real story. The one that makes room for things turning out not at all like we planned, but as things really are.

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A Fly In Our Ointment

"Dead flies cause the ointment of the apothecary to send forth a stinking savour: so doth a little folly him that is in reputation for wisdom and honour." Ecclesiastes 10:1 (King James Version)

Sometimes a memory just shows up and makes you smile and cringe, all at the same time.

Lots of years ago when I was a single mom, making my way back to financial security, I’d finally been able to purchase a small home in a quiet neighborhood. And while I felt proud of that accomplishment, it still didn’t measure up to what I thought life should look like. Most of my friends seemed to have found a way to purchase larger homes, furnished with new furniture, in nicer neighborhoods. Most of my furnishings had been gathered at estate sales, the goodwill, and hand-me-downs from friends and family. It was cozy, but far from classy, and I wanted classy.

Getting ready for a family celebration in our humble abode, I surveyed the wine selection. My budget afforded me to buy jug wine. My vision for what it meant to be a classy hostess meant a selection of lovely bottles. Then I remembered that I had a few empty bottles that others had brought to earlier gatherings stashed out in the recycling bin. I grabbed a couple of the empties, dusted them off, and filled them with the jug wine. There’s more than one way to skin a classy cat! The jug wine appeared for all the world to be the nice wine depicted on the label.

Until.

Pouring the first glass for the first guest, along with the jug wine, out poured a dead fly. Not what you’d call classy. In my rush to put on a good appearance I had neglected to do a thorough cleaning of the old bottles.

Classy is being proud of where you are. Folly is pretending to be where you are not.

Photo by Kaboompics .com from Pexels


Grounded

“Ground is what lies beneath our feet. It is the place where we already stand; a state of recognition, the place or the circumstances to which we belong whether we wish to or not. It is what holds and supports us, but also what we do not want to be true; it is what challenges us, physically or psychologically, irrespective of our hoped for needs. It is the living, underlying foundation that tells us what we are, where we are, what season we are in and what, no matter what we wish in the abstract, is about to happen in our body, in the world or in the conversation between the two.

To come to ground is to find a home in circumstances and in the very physical body we inhabit in the midst of those circumstances and above all to face the truth, no matter how difficult that truth may be; to come to ground is to begin the courageous conversation, to step into difficulty and by taking that first step, begin the movement through all difficulties, to find the support and foundation that has been beneath our feet all along; a place to step onto, a place on which to stand, and a place from which to step.”

- from Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words by David Whyte

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Cooking Up Joy

“Any possibility of joy requires the acceptance of reality. “

*The Book of Joy

Well, that sucks.  

Reality, at least in my world, doesn’t always match up with how I want it to be. On any given day, things can go off the rails, and I’m left to deal with what I’ve got, not what I want. Where’s the joy in that I ask you?? Well, if there is any to be found, it has to be smack dab in the midst of it, because if it can’t be found there, joy is going to be darn hard to come by.

Joy, at least the real meal deal, isn’t dependent on circumstances, it’s abides in the midst of them. Not the happy meal kind of joy, but the stick to your ribs kind. Not the fast food variety, but the slow cooker style. The kind we cook up by being the best us we can with the ingredients we’ve got to work with. It may not be fancy, but it is food for the journey.

Joy as comfort food.

* The Book of Joy by His Holiness the Dali Lama, Desmond Tutu, and Douglas Abrams