only the present

butterflies like memories

We don't make a big deal of Christmas since we moved to Taos many years ago. Back east Christmas Eve was the special time when family and friends came to our house. We did the usual things gladly: turkey, cookies, cakes, gifts, a real tree with ornaments collected over decades, each with a little story attached that we had to tell again. A fire blazed in the stone fireplace in our remodeled lake house. It was built in 1925 by a couple that came to Candlewood Lake from New York every summer with their best friends, another couple who built their house next door. You couldn't see the lake but it was only a two minute drive away. Since we moved to New Mexico we haven't been with family at Christmastime. Somehow it doesn't work; distance, weather, money, other extended family commitments. So we celebrate, Ron and me, in our own modest way. A tabletop tree that's been around for 10 years (there were two but the other one blew away last spring when I was organizing the storage room). Every year I decorate the 18" tree(s)  with whatever whim is prevalent. Lights, clothespins, angels, tiny glass motorcycle and train ornaments, penguins. This year I found lovely paper butterflies at Wabi-Sabi. They look real -- like they just flew in and landed on this unlikely tree.

A doll as old as me (don't ask) sits beneath the tree. I have no idea when she came into my life and I don't remember actually playing with her. She is immodestly not wearing underwear and her sweater was borrowed from a stuffed bear who arrived here a few years ago. However, we believe in fun at any age and I think she's beautiful (in spite of a slightly chipped nose) and I hope she's enjoying her reemergence.

convergences
Ron's birthday is tomorrow and we'll do something festive that he likes. Maybe lunch in Santa Fe, or a special gift. Maybe I'll bake his favorite chocolate cake. Whatever we do, I've gotten past the holiday blues. Even though there is more to be blue about this year than in previous years. When I compare those blues, the past seems quite trivial and I will try to be more mindful and grateful during this time. After all, we're still here, after the dire end-of-the-world madness -- and the light is returning.

Your mind is all stories
     Dipa Ma