Tag Archives: Twelve Days

health, meditation

The Seventh Day of Christmas: Seven Swans a-Swimming

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The other day, I was driving our son through a nice Christmas snow so he could volunteer at the museum, and he said, ‘you know, mom, everything is pretty with snow on it.’

I agreed. The world is so beautiful when covered with snow. And I have to think that the last bird mentioned in the twelve days of Christmas is the most beautiful of them all. And I want to be reminded to look for the beauty that surrounds us, like in the snow.

It could be easy to look at the snow and only see needing to shovel it or how hard it is to drive in it. But it also makes everything look so pretty, and it makes the world glow. It’s such a common thing, and it’s everywhere, but it is beautiful.

We have a pair of cardinals that like to sit in the tree outside our window. The male is such a vivid color, especially against the snow and the bark of the bare tree. The female is the same shape and just as graceful, just s beautiful. Together they will make another generation of cardinals that will flit in the tree in years to come. I don’t know how many generations I have already watched.

We have old windows, and on nights when it is cold and damp enough, we can wake up to feathers of frost blooming on them. I dread ever getting new windows because they don’t have that little bit of beauty anymore.

When my mother was living with us before she died, she had a teddy bear she loved dearly. She was so beautiful when cuddling it.

Every where we turn, our lives are surrounded by beauty. If we define beauty too narrowly, however, we will miss it. Defining it broadly— sun glinting off ice, a brown bird with the promise of more, an old woman’s smile— and our lives are full of beauty.

And the world certainly needs more of it.

So when I remember the swans-a-swimming, I will think of beauty and try to remember to look for it everywhere, even where I don’t expect to find it.

Back to introduction.
Forward to Eight.

health, meditation

The Sixth Day of Christmas: Six Geese a-Laying

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My mother would tell me a story of how the Romans used geese instead of dogs to guard their cities and soldiers. I am not sure how widespread through out Rome this actually was, but there is historical evidence that the Romans and many many others have relied on these birds to sounds an alarm and defend them or their property from intruders. So on this sixth day of Christmas, I am thinking about defense.

I am thinking about the defenses we set up that actually hurt us, the ones that our animal brains put into place to deal with hurts when we don’t have the tools to deal with them in a healthy manner. You probably can name a couple of your own right now, and know exactly what I mean. I have been under a great deal of stress over the past few years, and have learned some needed but not healthy ways of defending my psyche. Now that the stress is loosening up, I need to remember to shift from non productive defenses to productive ones.

For example, I have a procrastinator’s habit of doing busy work: when you keep moving and get things done but they are not the things that will actually move your life forward. Yes, the refrigerator needs to be cleaned and dinner needs to be cooked, but that looming bill needs to be paid and that dreadful task needs to be done as well. But by busying myself with other tasks, I can keep pushing off what needs to be done, working hard, and still feeling guilt, stress and not moving forward.

So when I hear this line, I will think of defenses that are good and ones that are dangerous and will remember to work against the ones that will not help me in the long run, even if they make me feel better in the short run.

Back to introduction.
Forward to Seven.

health, meditation

The First Day of Christmas: A Partridge in a Pear Tree

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It’s the first part of the song, the first bird of the group. And it always made me think about a lovely small potted pear tree with a bird sitting nicely nested in it, like all the imagery surrounding the song. Apparently partridges don’t roost in trees, pear or otherwise. They stay on the ground. Because, of course, this needed explanation, the Greeks had a myth. Daedalus, of the Icarus flying too close to the sun myth, had a nephew named Perdix. Perdix was smart, very smart, and creative. He is credited with inventing the compass and the saw. Daedalus, who was very intelligent himself, was jealous of his nephew, and pushed him off a ledge. Athena, who liked ingenuity, changed Perdix into a bird so he would survive. Obviously, he became the partridge. Because of that, the partridge is afraid of heights and remains close to the ground at all times. And understandably so.

Now, being so afraid of heights you never perch in a tree is not a good thing. But being grounded is. So on this first day of Christmas, I will think about that partridge and being grounded.

Being grounded to me is having both feet firmly placed and having my balance, metaphorically speaking. It is knowing where my center is and being able to let the world blow around me without knocking me off kilter. Do I always succeed? Or course not, especially when larger or even small unexpected winds blow. But having a sense of where the ground is can help me find my feet faster. Breathing, a cup of tea, a hug from a friend can all be ways to remember to ground myself. Putting my feet in sand or grass can help, if I am lucky enough to have access to either in a Buffalo winter. Drinking a glass of water, connecting with a friend, working on a project can all help me regain that balance and keep my feet from sliding when the winds hit.

But there is another sort of being grounded that this makes me think of. It’s remembering that so little of what I do is actually important. Yes, I need to clean the bathroom and I need to make that dip and I need to dust the shelves— but none of that is near as important as slowing down and being present. Friends won’t care about the dust, and will forgive an unwashed floor (I hope!). They don’t care that I have 3 snacks out instead of the 6 I had planned. What is important isn’t how hard I can work and how much I can overextend to create the ‘perfect’ evening. What is important is being present and loving those who are around me.

So on this first day of Christmas, I will remember that Partridge and I will work to keep to the ground as much as I can.

(an aside: Perdix’s name became the word for partridge. Some people believe when the song entered English, the French Perdix was heard as ‘pear tree’, which is how was roosted.)

Back to the start.
Forward to day Two.