Descent Into Winter's Night ...

A few weeks ago, I brought my houseplants back indoors, situating them wherever I could in my relatively small house until next Spring. (I say "small" because I'd lived in a large home for many years before moving to my current abode). This time of year is such a mixed bag of feelings for me. Yet, it is more nostalgic and introspective than any other time. There seems to be more clarity to my thoughts, matching in character the brilliantly colored trees and the more defined silhouettes of nature. This seems to be a time for plans to form and incubate ... maybe to put in a tickler file for January, as the holiday season will be fast upon us.

Whatever our religious persuasion (or not), the fervor and frenzy of holiday shopping will probably kick in, as usual, for most people. I guess for some, shopping can be sort of a magic pill -- both exciting and mind-numbing; maybe it can even be a temporary antidote for fear and/or future shock.

It strikes me oddly, though, to comprehend Santas, twinkling strings of lights, and merchandising all over the place, juxtaposed to reality: the tragedy and malevolence of the war, the impoverishing of many Americans who need a health care system, a dishonest and manipulative government, and our environment's burgeoning problems.

As I write this, I look out the window at a gray November sky, the prelude to nature's cloak of winter. I think about my hopes for peace, for honesty, for reason -- in our country and the world. I realize that the thing I feel most able to celebrate at this time, is the existence of hope. Hope can be ever-alive, even in the absence of optimism. In that spirit, my "dove of peace" tree ornament hangs (year-round) in my music room window.

May we all give each other the gift of peace. Where there is the ability to reason, there can be peace.

Peace to all creatures, all nations, all people.