Wednesday, January 20, 2021

TODAY THE SUN SETS ON THE OLD. TODAY THE SUN RISES ON THE NEW.

 


January 20, inauguration day in the US.  Many of us, most of us in fact, 78 million and counting, have been waiting for this.  There is much to say about these events as the day continues to unfold. One thing I thought of today is those well-known words, "Ring Out the Old Ring Out the New."  That is what is happening before our eyes. Amazingly the words of a poem from another time, another place, speak directly to us.  

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
   The flying cloud, the frosty light:
   The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
   Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
   The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind
   For those that here we see no more;
   Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
   And ancient forms of party strife;
   Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
   The faithless coldness of the times;
   Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
   The civic slander and the spite;
   Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
   Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
   Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
   The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
   Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

In Memoriam, "Ring Out Wild Bells" (1850)

Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892)


Monday, January 18, 2021

CONNECT WITH YOURSELF, CONNECT WITH OTHERS

"Rose of Sharon" means love, beauty and healing.

Found this in Bellagracemagazine.com, unattributed.  I think you'll like it.

I know it sounds fake but you really do have a lot of 

silent lovers on this planet who look at you and wish

they had your smile or your hair color or your

humor or your intellect or your intentions or your

heart, your manners, your eyes, your ease, even just you.

People who are too shy to tell you what they

admire about you or what they wish for you.

Even though it isn't verbalized, 

the universe has still heard and 

the universe has loved you for helping out on its creations.

You're that person.  You're you. 

I feel like this is absolutely true and each of us should know it.  How lovely for an anonymous writer to give us this thought to ponder.  How generous.  Let's accept these words today as part of our appreciation of self, appreciation of others.       Nina Naomi 

 

 

  

Monday, January 11, 2021

TIME MOVED LIKE HONEY TODAY

 

Monet, "Sunshine and Snow," 1881

Time moved like honey today.  Maybe for most of the pandemic for those of us who from need or choice have been home-bound.  For a change the days have not been over before we've had a chance to pay attention to  them.  Slow like honey; sweet like honey.  When ever have Mondays been like that?  And in spite of the 1/6 events in Washington; in spite of even those.  Congress meets, the cabinet defects, we are another day closer to the inauguration and still the day redeemed itself, as days have a way of doing when we let them.

That's one of my intentions for the new year, to keep whatever good the pandemic has given birth to.  The habit of zooming with friends far away.  The habit of asking how others are doing and really wanting to know.  No more pro forma these days.  The habit of listening, tuning our ear to the nuance of fear or loneliness.  Bringing the indoors out with fire pits and blankets to live in consonance with the season. 

But perhaps most of all the new way of making the best of the worst.  When the mob stormed the U.S. Capitol on January 6 most of us watching the news felt our connectedness to eachother, much as we did on 9/11.  I don't know what all the ramifications will be.  But I'll be paying attention and looking for whatever small part is open to me. 

For now I'll still be doing it from home, whose every nook and cranny I've come to love more during these ten months of seclusion.  The place where we're safest from the virus; where the masks come off and we can hold each other close.   During these months I've lifted so many prayers from this space and had so many of them answered.  One of the unspoken ones today, when time moved like honey.  

Thinking of each of you,  Nina Naomi

 

 

 

 

Friday, January 8, 2021

WINTER CONTENTMENT

 


Do certain things remind you of your childhood?  Winter reminds me.  Some of the reminders are not particularly happy.  One time I told my parents:  "I will NOT walk to school when the temperature is below than 20 degrees!"  It was probably an eight block walk and my nose was running, my fingers stiff, my bones sore from hunching against the cold by the time I reached the equally chilly high school.  We lived too close for the bus and I had no car.  My best friend and I tried singing, skipping, everything to keep warm.  Nothing worked.  St. Louis has cold winters. 

But most childhood winter memories are good ones.  You too?  On our second date my husband and I, then teenagers, sneaked into a country club and sledded by moonlight.  St. Louis is also hilly.  We shared a sled.  I had no complaints about the cold that night.

Do you agree that a wonderful thing about childhood is that our pleasures were simple?  I lived in a drafty house, had my own room and we had a dog.  The warm air from the coal furnace blew the dog's hair everywhere.  My job was to sweep it up.  A mix of collie and super-shedder, she lost large tufts of hair year-round.  I got an allowance for my chores.  I kept a diary which was mostly about boys I liked who sometimes liked me back. 

My first dog's name is still my password.  I bet something from your childhood is your password too.  I wonder if anyone has researched that. There's a reason security questions often have to do with our childhoods.  I can't articulate it, but someone can.  Some memories don't fade. 

One thing winter brings is time for introspection.  The quiet that accompanies the cold leaves more room to think.  The coronavirus has certainly left time for contemplation. Even with home-schooling and all the rest, winter is a slower season.  Let's be content.  

Thursday, January 7, 2021

OH HAPPY DAY

I got vaccinated today.  I must share this.  My heart, my mind, my emotions are lighter.  It feels celebratory.  I want this for everyone.  Each of us.  Whatever age, whatever health, whatever country . . . .  For all of us to have the smile that I am wearing.  It doesn't change my behavior.  In 28 days we will get the second shot.  And even then we will continue to mask, to take care.  But the fear of dying imminently from Covid or spreading it or causing someone else's death is diminished.  I have never felt so lucky. 

I had already been thinking about downsizing my New Year's Resolutions/Intentions.  From Lose Weight (an intention every year since I turned 40) to Enjoying my Food in a Mindful Manner.  From exercising  X number of times per week to Going Outdoors for Part of Each Day.  From reducing phone time to Putting Down My Phone When Someone Speaks to Me.  These are all tiny, achievable goals.  They fall under the umbrella of Living in a Way that Makes Life Better.  

But to be able to follow these modest intentions without the fear of infecting myself or someone else?  Somehow I never expected to reach this stage this early in the year.  After all, 2021 is not yet a week old.  

When good things happen we have to savor them.  We have to embrace them and give them as much notice as we do their opposite.  So often we are programmed to dwell on the negative.  But not today.  Today I want to shout my gratitude for the scientists who found a vaccine in record time.  My gratitude for the health care workers who have kept us alive or attended our dying.    For the 78 year-old Joe Biden who could have stayed in retirement mourning the loss of his adult son (as I have lost mine) but instead was willing to tackle the hardest job in the world.  

Today our local vaccine administrators seemed so happy to see us.  They want people to get vaccinated.  They thanked us for coming, when it was they who deserved all the thanks. Wishing this day for each and every one of us.  In gratitude, Nina Naomi

 

 

 

Saturday, December 26, 2020

OFFICIALLY THE STRANGEST HOLIDAY YET

 Well, it's official--this is the strangest holiday yet.  I'm sure all of us feel the same.  On Christmas Day we piled our gifts outside and lit two fires for warmth.  Mr. Wiggles was in great demand due to his soft fur coat and body heat.  He took turns snuggling under each person's lap robe.  Only a lump gave away where he was sleeping.  We tried shooting baskets to keep warm but the chill had stiffened our fingers.  By the time we came inside and the family went home, everyone was chilled to the bone.  It took hours to really feel comfortable again.  It was like apres ski without the ski. 

Does this sound like complaining?  It's not.  I am so grateful to be alive this Christmas.  Life is no small thing this year.   As of this moment  331,129  families in the United States have sacrificed someone they love to Covid.  This week one of our family members woke up feverish.  It took 3 negative tests to calm her panic.  She mothers a family of five.  

Christmas here is longer this year too, as we meet with only two or three family members at a time and try to wait for a warmish day.  Christmas Eve didn't bring the snow we wanted, just wind and rain.  So we moved our small tree to the garage and draped the rafters with clusters of lights the tree couldn't accommodate.  Crockpot chili was the dinner.  No complaints about that either.  We are lucky to be in-town grandparents to part of the family. 

Like everyone else, we zoomed, face-timed and sent photos and videos around.

Aren't we all lucky to have people we love to share our lives with? It doesn't matter if we're cold, or huddled under blankets, or together only on camera or in our hearts. If we've managed to stay safe we're fortunate.  

I do feel like Emmanuel has come this year again.  The pandemic hasn't changed that.  We've had time to whisper our prayers, to live abundantly in spirit in spite of it all, to breathe the fresh winter air along with the wood smoke.  To tuck in with the night.  

Wishing the best to everyone in the world's big family,  Nina Naomi

Monday, December 21, 2020

LOVING LONG DARK NIGHTS


Some of us actually love long dark nights.  Are you one of those?  I am. Nothing beats warm pajamas and early-to-bed. Today is the winter solstice in our hemisphere and my husband and I have picked out our spot to watch the conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn.  The last time these two bright planets huddled this close together was in 1623! We'll be doing our own huddling in hats, mitts and scarves.   

I wonder what the world thought almost 400 years ago before telescopes and binoculars.  The Christmas star I suppose some called it.  I read that not until 2080 will the planets align so closely again. I won't be here to see that.  

So a few minutes after sunset we and another couple will be at our spots at a high point just a few miles from home staring at the southwestern sky.  If we were at the beach in Pine Knoll Shores the view would be spectacular.  This is the season the sun disappears directly into the Atlantic there.  Residents gather every cloudless evening to watch the drop. Tonight they can also see the planets shine about 30 degrees above the horizon. 

Tomorrow the night will be a few minutes shorter. The next night a few more.  Until the shortest night and longest day on June 20, the summer solstice. I plan to savor the still-short days in January and February.  I plan to light fires indoors and out, grill hotdogs and steaks and roast marshmallows. Keep the sparkle lights twinkling.  Bundle up every sunny day and enjoy the cold.  Read, knit, cook, try new things, pray, keep as positive as I can.  And of course hope for snow, which in fact is forecast for Christmas Day. (In contrast, our New Jersey relatives are making snow angels already and digging out if they want to go anywhere.)  

Isn't it wonderful to have something like this free for all?  Here we have been trying to survive Covid, worrying about ourselves and eachother, modifying plans like mad, weathering the strife of politics . . . and all of a sudden it's Christmas week.  Lights everywhere, gifts, mangers, movies to watch,  Zoom sessions with friends, FaceTime with family and, best of all, vaccines being scheduled. 


I'm taking the conjunction of these planets as a symbol of hope.  Why not?  Why not indeed.          Nina Naomi