Saturday, November 29, 2008

Fireworks in the air, doors wide, upon Christmas Season?

Bless-ed are these days upon us. Bless-ed they seem to open our hearts. Often we are not aware of the way they affect us until they are gone.

I smell the minty smell of the dish soap and think of a few moments ago when I was up on the roof-top terrace. I could hear the sound of a fiesta one street away and hear the sound of an accordion playing and the group undoubtedly buzzed off their drink of choice, singing the famous Mexican melodies together.

As I took down the clothes from the clothes-line I could smell the smell of the fireworks the children were letting off in the streets below. I watched an attractive man walk down the street, he was not aware I was watching, and he paused directly in front of our house for sale. He waited right in front of our house. I wondered why and realized it was for some firework, I could not see, to finish, and then he was on his way. Just then the lady across the street came out into her garage to peak out the window to see what was going on. In that moment I lifted my head to the tropical jungle surrounding the city, and the white fluffy clouds that were lower than the mountain tops.

And then my gaze grew lower and I could see up my street to where some balloons were strewn across the street from one side to the other. Off in the distance I could see the tops of some homes in a slightly newer area strewn with Christmas lights.

In my mind I imagined my friend, who wrote to me today, sitting inside her house and looking out the window imagining what it is like here. She looks out her own window and sees the rain pouring down. I know there the temperature is low. And here I am in a different beautiful place and I am missing the Christmas’ that I grew up with, the Peacock lane, the Willamette River parade of boats with Christmas lights, the no longer Meier and Frank 12th floor Christmas tram, seeing your breath, and the rush of the season.

There is no rush here.

Since I never committed myself to be here I am unable to celebrate the season. The commitment phobic I am. Or am I? I’m so committed to moving with the flow and being open that I am not committing to my own traditions. I am cheating myself. I am cheating my children. We do have fun, but I feel like it is all or nothing. I must be in Portland to celebrate the Christmas I know. It has to be cold outside, or it’s not Christmas.

I am grateful though. I am grateful for this cozy little house, and my cozy little life, and the unexpected miracles that happen everyday.

Bless-ed are these days upon us.