Winter Lessons
I deeply resent the Hallmark Channel. We had a good thing going for a while -- I turned to them for some vapid-but-salving entertainment. I turned to them for the simple pleasures of a baker who gives away cups of coffee to her regular clients and who assists the impossibly beautiful cop in his murder investigations. I turned to them for the lush escape of a beautiful, beloved  renovator who transforms homes in a small coastal town in the Northwest… and who assists the impossibly beautiful cop in his murder investigations. There was always great scenery (many filmed in NW Canada), super outerwear (who knew that any one baker / decorator / home renovator could have so many stylish, statement-making coats in her wardrobe?) and pleasant, if predictable, outcomes. And then the holidays arrived (in October…) and things went South for us.


Now when I tune in, I’m confronted with lots of shiny people who suffer implausible gaps in their perfect, shiny lives and the entirety of these faux foibles is wrapped up in gaudy Christmas attire. Take, for example, the nonprofit executive who moves from LA to Chicago and the entire movie is about the lack of a party planner for a Christmas fundraiser (what nonprofit can afford to put together a fundraiser in Chicago two weeks before Christmas?!). This particular nonprofit executive ends up with the party planner (who’s not REALLY a party planner -- shhhhhh!). Then there’s the hotel maid who gets fired, only to be recruited by visitors to the hotel who witnessed the cruel dismissal: a Prince and his butler. The butler convinces Cinde… the maid to come to some small sovereignty in Western Europe to be the Prince’s daughter’s governess. You can see where this train is going, am I right?
So here’s the thing: I should have known what I was in for when I got involved in this relationship. Nothing is that shiny. Murder is never entertaining. And no one has that much fabulous outerwear in her wardrobe. Especially when you’re a nonprofit executive. And even during the holidays, nothing turns out predictably and pleasantly. So I’m looking for a new love. I want entertainment that more closely resembles my reality.


My reality is not that shabby. I love my family. My family love me. We have a home and food and cars that (mostly) work. We have a few friends and many of them even live nearby; and those who don’t live nearby are generous with their visits and patient with our visits to them. But here’s a news flash, ladies and gentlemen: very little of my life is shiny. In any way. I guess I had hoped that I might see a small part of myself in that shiny, Hallmark mirror. I do not. What I see of my life when I examine it from the very best angle is a vigorous turtle: very strong for its size, resilient and canny. I read on my social media feed that I would do well to be guided by the tortoise, a species admired in fairy tales and allegories for its patience, wisdom and longevity. Perhaps I will find inspiration in this animal that has so little “shiny” appeal but so much to offer in lessons. Perhaps my life is rich with lessons if not so resplendent with classic beauty.


In the meantime, perhaps I should turn away from the soft-focus glamour of the Hallmark channel and seek instead my entertainment from another source: books. Right now I’m reading (still) The Book of Joy; Lasting Happiness in a Changing World, a work that represents a series of conversations between the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu and which were facilitated by Douglas Carlton Abrams. I’ve also started Emergent Strategy; Shaping Change, Changing Worlds, by Adrienne Maree Brown, a work which will allegedly lead me on a “passionate purposeful, intimate ride into this Universe where relationships spawn new possibilities.” So there, Hallmark Channel -- take that! I may not have a shiny Hallmark life, but I’m going to massage my world view into something a little richer at least with staying power and wacky, mind-bending whimsy.

So, besides all that, I could also turn to another seasonal classic -- quiet. Instead of donning the uncomfortable, inaccessible beauty of a perfect Hallmark coat, or the weighty cloak of a Universe that wants me allegedly to create passionate, purposeful change, I think I’ll take a nap. Or at least a metaphoric one. I will wrap my poor, addled brain in the velvety quiet of a winter snowstorm. I will hunker down and watch the flicker of a fire as the reflection of its cheerful flames dance silently across our living room walls. I’ll listen for the deep sigh of the wind as it undertakes its wintery work brushing and thinning the trees of dead twigs and lingering leaves. I will reside there, in that quiet space, and see what the Divine has to say about all this noise. I will hush and I will listen and I will allow myself to be subtly transformed as the trees are by the winter winds. I will emerge from the silken winter silence with a renewed appetite for the complex, imperfect beauty of this life. I will not yearn for and strain toward predictable outcomes. Instead, I will awaken and enjoy what the Universe has already put in motion. And I will follow her lead.

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