The Journey

We left Wisconsin early Wednesday morning.  It was 15 degrees outside as we finished packing the car and set off for our trip back to North Carolina.  We had coffee and cookies with my brother and sister-in-law and said our goodbyes, picked up some Wisconsin cheese for friends and started on the long drive.  In the past when we made this trip, I was all about getting there quickly and I would drive 1000 miles with two or three stops, my focus was on the goal.  It was a race.

This trip was different.  We decided to live the advice of  Ralph Waldo Emerson and Aerosmith who both tell us to make life about the journey, not the destination.  This time we stopped in Ohio for dinner with Gary’s brother and his wife.  It was delightful to catch up, exchange Christmas gifts, share a meal and a glass of wine with this couple who are important in our lives.  I am so glad we made the time and it reaffirmed that spending time with those you care about, in person, is what makes connection.

We spent the night along the road, then a leisurely breakfast before starting out again.  For lunch, we planned a stop I’d recommend to anyone who likes either good food or local arts and crafts.  Tamarack, in Beckley, West Virginia is huge and has some of the best artisans of the state represented.  They also have a world class cafeteria with specials that included locally sourced foods, deliciously prepared.  We didn’t try to set speed records, we enjoyed the lovely views of the mountains and the cities along the way and still got home before dark.

This is not just the case with literal journeys.  We need to pause and think about those little things that make each day special rather than racing for the weekend or the vacation, retirement, or whatever it is that we are looking forward to.  Living in the moment may sound trite or even selfish, but it truly is all that we have.  None of us know what tomorrow may bring, so we’d do well to make this “precious present” the best that it can be.

Christmas Eve

Gary and I just got home from the Christmas Eve service at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship in Appleton.  The feeling of sacred community is still with me as I reflect on the service and recall my years of membership withthis dynamic and loving group of people.  Singing Silent Night with only the lights of the candles we hold is the essence of Christmas for me.  It speaks of the peace, the joy, and the love of the season.  It takes me beyond the warmth of friendship and into a more spiritual space.

As we remember the story of Jesus’ birth and think of how we celebrate Christmas, it also takes us back to the earlier Christmases of our childhoods.  On the ride back home we talk about the differences, how we and the season have changed.

Most obvious is the evolution to the commercialism.  Leaving church in the cloak of hope and joy was transformed to awe of a different sort as we drove past Walmart and Target, both open and heavily trafficked on Christmas Eve.  The giant blow-up Santas and Snowmen waved at us as we made our way home.  Houses sparkled with thousands of lights.  We were seeing the social side of Christmas, the secular celebrations of families and neighborhoods.

So which of these is Christmas?  Can it be both?  There are lots of presents under our tree that seem to indicate that at this house it can be a balance.  We can love the time of miracles and love the sometimes gaudy displays and presents.  It is all Christmas, it is all an expression of the Season and a celebration of the love that surrounds us at this time of year. 

My wish is that you find the love, the joy and the peace of Christmas wherever you look this season.  That you hold the possibility of miracles close to your heart.

Merry Christmas!

The Season of Christmas

I am writing this in the perfect Wisconsin scene.  Snow is falling, a fire is burning and the lights of the Christmas tree sparkle.  Lake Michigan is icy blue and there are deer tracks in the driveway.  It is a beautiful 25 degrees.

We drove the 1,000 miles from North Carolina to Wisconsin in two days, taking our time and stopping for long lunches and a bit of shopping, stopping for the night when the rain came down in sheets and it appeared that out little car would be drowned by the huge trucks on the interstate.  Shortly after crossing the northern border of  Illinois we stopped for lunch.  A Packer table cloth graced the foyer of the restaurant.  I was home!  It was freezing!! 

When we stopped for lunch in Ashville, NC, it was warm enough for tables to be set in the patios and sidewalk cafes.  Twenty-four hours later I was rummaging for my down parka and fur lined mittens just to walk across the parking lot.  There is a world of difference between Christmas in the South and here in Packer Country.

I have not been quick to get into the Holiday Spirit this year.  Since we were traveling, we didn’t decorate the house and our shopping is fairly minimal.  My walks on warm days in Mooresville showed the impossible combination of those huge blow up snowmen standing next to a blooming rose bush, or Santa on a dock next to a motor boat that looked like it was about to take him for a spin around the lake.  People were mowing their grass next to the parked reindeer.  It just didn’t seem right.

We drove into my little hometown of Kewaunee on Thursday night.  There was a bit of snow in the air and gale force winds buffeted the car.  The streets were decorated and downtown was festive with holiday trees in the park where our family feedmill once stood.  When we walked in the front door of the cottage, a Christmas tree in the livingroom (placed there either by elves or my brother) greeted us.  The spark of Holiday spirit was starting to creep in.

Last night we went to a Christmas party.  Everyone was dressed in holiday finery under their layers of down and wool, hats and mittens were piled nearby.  As we greeted friends in the beautiful historic hotel, decorated with trees and wreaths, the mood was festive.  We celebrated old and new friends enjoying the Holiday cheer and a tasty dinner.  Christmas is a week from tomorrow and for me, this is just about the right time to start feeling the season.

I start to itch when Christmas decorations appear in stores before Halloween; it makes me crazy if I hear Christmas music before Thanksgiving.  The commercial side of Christmas is too much, too early and too gaudy.  For me, it takes away from, rather than enhances the feelings that go with the season. 

Instead, I prefer to celebrate with those who are dear to me, to remember the smell of baking cookies and to sit in front of a fire with only that and the tree lights burning.  Sharing times with friends and family, admiring the Christmas tree, seeing the snow … this is the perfect way to start the Christmas season.

You are welcome to take the opportunity to comment on this blog

by leaving a private email at jodiekacer@aol.com

The Mystery

The whole concept of Faith is a mystery to me.  I envy people of conviction who know a personal God and have no questions about the existence of the Trinity.  They are absolutely sure of their path to heaven, of forgiveness, and of the divinity of Jesus.  They have a set of rules which guide them and know the answers.   I am sometimes almost as envious of those who claim atheism and feel just as certain that life here is what we get and when it’s over, it’s over.  I, on the other hand, live in a world of uncertainty.

Perhaps it is the Christmas season, perhaps it is facing the unknown of my own mortality, but this has been on my mind more frequently recently.  I would love to have the answer, to know the truth.  But for me, it remains a mystery upon which I reflect with no clear conclusions.

I saw a sign in front of a church here (The South has many and varied churches) that said “Know Jesus and know heaven, without him, know Hell.”  Yikes!  Does that mean devout non-Christians and those who doubt will burn in Hell?  That certainly doesn’t fit with my understanding of a “Loving God.”  There are so many teachings that tell us not to judge, yet many who would refer to themselves as deeply religious are extremely judgmental of anyone who does not see the world through their lense, who border on hatred of those who are different.  Yet they seem firm in their “rightness” and see themselves firmly aligned with God in a way that allows no question, no doubt.

There are those who claim that it was the sins of (choose whichever you please) New Orleans, the Jews, Afghanistan are responsible for the devastation of hurricanes, the holocaust and war feel that their own relative comfort is based on being rewarded as a more righteous better person, that God punishes those who do not live their lives following the rules.

I find this frightening.  I have none of that certainty, but I do know that a God of vengeance is not a fit for me.  This feels more like coming from a place of hatred, not love.

I believe in the Sacred, I try to live with a focus of making this world a better place for others as I feel so fortunate to have the life I’ve been given.  I certainly don’t understand, and yet I talk daily with a God, a Spirit of life, whom I see as a force of love and wisdom that might guide me along this path.  This is not in the memorized prayer of my youth, but a rather one sided conversation.  I ask for guidance and for strength, as I think of those who are suffering, I ask for peace.  For those who are celebrating joys in their lives I ask for continued blessings.  I pray with gratitude for all of the richness of this life.  And I continue to contemplate the mystery.

You are welcome to take the opportunity to comment on this blog

by leaving a private email at jodiekacer@aol.com

Vacation Reflections

Last night we flew back to Charlotte on a late flight from San Francisco.  The words of the woman behind me have haunted me since our return.  I think there is a valuable message in what she was sharing.

We were delayed in take-off and I was annoyed by her voice, the woman had one of those tonal qualities that rise over all others and are hard to ignore.  It was so intrusive that I couldn’t concentrate on my book.  Then the content of what she was saying started to sink in and my annoyance vanished.  She and her husband were celebrating their 50^th wedding anniversary with a cruise in the Caribbean and had missed their earlier flight so had been “patched through” via Charlotte, due to arrive in Miami sometime after midnight.  She talked a bit about having rarely taken trips together during their marriage and how she had so looked forward to this vacation, how excited she was to see another part of the world.

As we were readying for takeoff, the flight attendant asked for the woman’s cane and put it in our overhead compartment.  As we taxied to the runway, I couldn’t ignore the conversation as she shared that she was on dialysis and not only had the cane, but a checked wheel chair and a portable dialysis machine that she needed to use several times a week.  When I got up to stretch I could see that she looked very ill. 

My thoughts for the past 24 hours have vacillated between two points.  One is how fortunate that she is able to do this trip, that in spite of a wheelchair and the need for dialysis, she can fly across the country, get on a cruise ship and have a vacation to remember.  Second was sadness that she couldn’t have experienced the joy of travel while she was healthy and able to climb the hills and see those areas that are not accessible by wheelchair.  I felt sadness for them, for all they have missed.

This is in contrast to a wonderful week of family times and the fun of exploring the coast of California from Los Angeles to San Francisco.  We were tourists through and through.  We stayed on the Queen Mary, docked in Long Beach and used as a hotel, an elegant reminder of the days when Clark Gable and Winston Churchill crossed the Atlantic in luxury.  We drove up the coast and stopped to see the seals sunning, we walked beaches, had lunch in Malibu, walked the hills of San Francisco and ate seafood fresh off the boats at Fisherman’s Wharf.  It was glorious.

On the Beach At Malibu with Caleb

We also had several days with family.  A sit down Thanksgiving dinner for over twenty family and friends in Ventura was the highlight.  This is mostly my brother-in-law’s family, but they welcomed us a part of the Sullivan clan.  Then there was the fun of watching my grand-nephew play in the hotel pool, sharing lunch with my sister and her husband in Sausalito as we looked out at Alcatraz and sailboats gliding by.  We had dinner in Manhattan Beach with my nephews and their families.  It was a time to be grateful for family and for the opportunity to enjoy every moment.

The lesson is once again, don’t wait.  Explore your passions and take advantage of any opportunities to do what you love with those you enjoy.  For me it is travel, for others it may be theatre or the opera or spending time in the woods.  Whatever it is, don’t wait for retirement, for the kids to grow up, for the 50^th wedding anniversary or the perfect time.  Do it now because you never know when your world may change.