“In winter’s depths, remember...

...that warmth will always return." (Irish Solstice blessing)

‘Tis the season, sort of. I guess. It’s hard to up my jolly meter for reasons that most of you can understand or possibly even share. Last Saturday I drove up to St. Louis to spend the day with my three youngest grandchildren. My batch of naked sugar cookies became decked with all kinds of sprinkles and candy stars and Hershey kisses accompanied by peals of laughter and the 3 year old very seriously guarding his one heavily mounded with every colored sugar, chocolate piece and decorated cookie. “Me eats this.” Meaning step away from my plate.

We made a simple banner from their photos pasted on Santa cutouts that my daughter later strung across the front window. It was a good day far away from the madness, far far away from the pain and agony and stupidity that surrounds all our lives these days like smoke from a forest fire no amount of water seems able to put out.

For a few hours, I felt totally embraced by the magic of our simple holiday activities and with Solstice upon us, I hunger for the expanding daylight just as our ancestors did. The returning of the Light meant more warmth, seeds ready to plant, hunger to end.

Newgrange Ireland, courtesy Brian Morrison

The world around me feels like it’s out of control, a dreidel spun by a madman or several madmen playing a malevolent game of who’s in control now and how much damage can we do. An AI video game of winner take all they’ve invented called “World Domination.”

To keep some form of sanity and my feet on the ground I’ve invented my own game. It’s called “Black Out!” For each news story of the Cheeto Who Would Be King that shows up I scroll past of course and head to the corners of the web where I find things like East Idaho News and Secret Santa. I urge you to watch it each day and peek into their archives.

Every year for the past 10 years a completely anonymous donor gives away a million dollars between November 1 and New Year’s. Folks send in nominations to the News Station and needs are filled or wishes granted. Yes, it’s often teary. Just the idea that someone wealthy enough to give away one million dollars a year every year wants to remain completely anonymous, juxtaposed to Cheeto King who can’t get enough notoriety, is refreshing. You can almost feel the bodies of these folks relax with relief as the gifts of food cards, or cars or house repairs or assistance with transportation to medical appointments in other states has lightened their personal burdens. Kindness and generosity, which seems so elusive and foreign to the wealthy class, is on full display in these short episodes that embody one of the most ancient tenets for rulers, politicians, and the privileged.

Noblesse oblige: that with privilege comes the duty to act in a way that benefits others, that those in positions of power and wealth should leverage their status for the greater good—a concept our uber wealthy can’t spell and certainly no longer practice or even believe in.

You can find other places on the internet like the Good News Network or the Daily Good to inspire you or simply remind you that those who would seek to destroy your happiness, to further divide you from your neighbors or the natural world around you, who probably have no friends themselves and don’t understand that it’s not ‘charity’ but just old fashioned decency and caring, are but a small fraction of our global family. Thankfully.

No I’m not a Pollyanna, never have been. I see the glass half full/half empty at the same time. Hey, I’m a Gemini. I’m also a pragmatist/optimist that understands without those demonic minions playing “World Domination” games, those millions of others holding the light all over the world, would not be so resplendent, so beautiful, so intimidating to those currently holding all the game pieces. Or so they believe. The contrast is our gift, our blessing.

This year, again, I ask that you turn off the chaos meter, those social media rants that fill you with rage and anger or fear or pain. Keep the bare minimum (I must check Instagram every morning to search for updates from Bisan.) But the rest? The constant scrolling for the latest horror, or crisis or failure in the administration? Push past the urge to ruin your day by looking for the good news, look for ‘the helpers’ as Mr. Rodgers suggested.

And share what you find. I’d love to see in the comments what lifts you up. Consider these stories or moments of kindness, support, care, appreciation one Yule log laid on another to build your internal Solstice bonfire. Make it grow, stronger and more fierce, let the madmen stay in their ugly hovels of greed, lusting for power, addicted to more, caught in their own derangement syndrome seeking to become gods on Earth. Pity them for a minute but only a minute. Don’t give them more of your life than that. All empires fall, all dictators fail. They will as well. We must not let them drown out our joy, our laughter, our connection and our generosity, the best of our humanity.

Now for my favorite way to wind down and fill this house, this homestead, these woods, and the sky with my laughter, I give you three Irish lads making nonsense of our human failings, Foil Arms and Hog. Bet you can’t watch just one.

Enjoy and may the mirth be with you each and every day. It’s how we’ll all get through this— together.

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