Archive for December, 2011

I am struggling with my second cold in as many months, and I am not a happy camper. It is beautiful outside, yet my energy level comes nowhere near the elemental energies calling me. The time has just changed and with it the functional arising of fall. The leaves are braced against the cinnamon dusk sky, full of clouds that hold the remaining light of the day as if were an infant pressed against its mother’s bosom. There was an early morning rain that doused the trees and brush by our creek, Brush Creek, leaving a moist patina on the pathway we now walk. A quick twenty minutes at day’s end, we agree to. Despite my cold I march along trying to match Ruth’s pace. My body sweats, a good thing, but, of course, I worry about worsening my illness. Chalk it up to my Jewish upbringing when the matriarchs would feel my head with their head or their hand, pronouncing me well, or, more often, feverish. Oi vey, and it’s off to bed with me, too sick to play, yet not sick enough to watch TV. I would miss school, yes, but what good was it? I couldn’t go out and join my friends. The good old days? No. These, this day, is much better. Even with a cold I could go out and play.

The trees in the neighborhood were in fabulous fall array, even now in December. On the east coast, they’d be brown by now, beaten down by cold and storm and wind, stripped of their party dresses, and made all muddy by November and her nasty manners. There was no salvation in this month, no gentleness, no subtlety to its harsh message: Winter is nigh. Stock the shelves. Gather wood. Chop it and stack. Dig out the shovels and hats and gloves and boots. Clean the chimney.

In the coastal plains of California, December is more a beauty in her 60s, like the blushing rose of my wife’s cheek rather than in New England, the pasty shriek of a crone. Oh, give me California any day, where my soul can spread out like the Mayten tree whose leaves hang like cormorant wings in the breeze. Oh, give me California where the ocean stretches out like a silver bedspread, bejeweled and bedecked with the creases and crevices of a master quilt. Oh, give me California where a human being can be outside just about every day, facing the elements not with fear but with anticipation. Oh, give me California where the great Redwood stands as living history for all to touch and feel and learn from.

It is Christmas Day. The sun is bright and constant. The temperature is rising. The world is warming, I know, but on this day I take respite in considering that bleak fact. I reflect back to a year of pain and facing the pain, to a year of fear and facing the fear, to a year of beginning to see a world of injustice unravel in protest that collectively said. “We want freedom.”

I think of the one law which will change this world now and forever: the one law which will change the way human beings relate to their world with justice, compassion, freedom, wisdom, consciousness, and love. That law is simply this: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Nothing else is needed. Others include the planet itself, animal, vegetable, and mineral. The Golden Rule is the only law we need to heal this Earth we all share. The practice of that rule would bring about a revolution in consciousness on personal and national levels. We need that revolution desperately.

I wish you all a Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukah on this Sunday in December 2011. May you all live in peace and kindness, love and consciousness, care and consideration of others.


Read Full Post »