I love everything about this jelly. My best friend gave it to me as a gift last fall. She made it herself. Can you imagine how many tiny grapes she had to gather? I put it away to save for a snowy day on the long stretch between the holidays and spring. And today was that day.
I brought it from my pantry, liking even the feel of it in my hand. In the kitchen, I held the quilted glass jar up to the window so the light would shine through its burgundy hues. Then I brought it up to my eyes so that it eclipsed everything else, so that all I could see was its color. I laughed and carried it to the counter. On its lid in Holly’s magic marker script it says “Wild Grape 9-24.” I remember September. I nibbled wild grapes at the wetlands. Holly said it didn’t set up right; it was more syrup than jelly. But I didn’t care. I removed the ring from the top of jar, my mouth tingling in anticipation. Then I carefully pried off the lid. With the tip of a teaspoon I dipped into the thick red pool as if I were performing a sacrament. Then, my eyes shut, paying full attention, I tasted it. I nearly swooned at the tangy sweet intensity of it, tasting like the culmination of autumn’s best productions. It will, I know, disappear before many days pass. But I will keep the jar on my window sill and remember the taste of wild grapes and think of September and Holly when I see it.
It snowed today, as if to cool the feverish dreams of the trees, who sensed, in some quiet tree-knowing way, that on rolling hills much like these in which they stretched their roots, but far away, thousands of trees were burning.
Let us not take this glistening day for granted, they said to one another, and they lifted their limbs to the morning sky and sang their thanks.
I looked at the list I compiled yesterday of events that have transpired since the beginning of the year. I was trying to sort out why I felt so overwhelmed.
It revealed a lot.
Just think, a week and a half ago we were all checking out the skies for drones and orbs as we bid 2024 farewell. Then, the next day, we were hit with the news of a man driving an electric truck into the New Orleans crowd, killing 15, wounding more, and the news of the electric Tesla truck exploding in Las Vegas in front of the Trump Towers.
Seem like that was a long time ago now?
Well, as we tried to learn more about that, a mysterious fog veiled large swaths of the planet, giving off a chemical smell, making some people sick.
That was followed by the first human bird flu death and the reemergence of Drs Burke and Fauci, promoting testing of every chicken and pig and cow in the nation. Well, maybe just the chickens and cows, I forget.
China reported a massive outbreak of a viral disease, respiratory if I recall correctly; attacks children hard.
Former President Jimmy Carter passed away at age 100 and was given a State funeral, which all the living former Presidents attended.
President Elect Trump was sentenced to nothing but having to carry a conviction on his record.
And then the fires broke out.
And nothing else mattered. They eclipsed everything.
Well, unless you lived in the wide swath of southern states from Arkansas to Virginia that were hit with a major winter storm. 55+ million affected.
And all this, in a little over a week and a half!
Didn’t I tell you it looked like this year was going to be a humdinger? That pronouncement still stands.
Close to Home
Because so many people have migrated to southern California from all over the United States and all over the world in the last few decades, a lot of us have connections to someone who lives there. The impact of the fires will be felt across the globe.
Personally, I have an 87 year old friend who lives in Santa Monica. Her apartment building is only two blocks away from an Evacuation Warning zone. A warning means to get your things together and be ready to go. It’s the step before a Mandatory Evacuation order. I haven’t been able to find out if she’s okay. The winds are supposed to pick up again tonight.
I think about all the people trying to find out if loved ones are okay.
A friend of mine got a call from his brother who lives in southern California, a good distance from the fires. His daughter, her hubby and three small kids lived in the Palisades, and lost everything they couldn’t pack into their car. Burned to ashes. Gone.
I multiply what they’re facing by the thousands of destroyed homes.
And we’re just at the beginning.
If you know anyone who’s been affected by the fire – or by loss or tragedy of any kind – let them talk with you about what happened and how they’re experiencing it. Listening is more helpful that you might guess. It lets people sort out their thoughts and put an explosion of pieces into some kind of picture. It helps them process their forever-altered reality.
“What must it be like,” my friend asked me, “to be going through this as a kid! Imagine being seven or five and suddenly everything you ever knew of home disappears. You wouldn’t have any way to understand.”
I reminded him of the studies of children who had come through World War II’s bombings and disruptions. As long as they felt cared for and loved, they grew up pretty much unscathed by the horrors they had witnessed. Children are remarkably resilient. Their forming minds don’t yet make the judgments ours do.
You do the same with kids as you do with adults. Listen. Let them know you care enough to sit with them and share the moment together.
Life can be scary, and hard. But we can be courageous and open to the possibility that, in the end, everything will turn out fine. Life goes on. Even when we sometimes wish it wouldn’t. And it always comes with it a choice to decide what you’re going to make of it.
Make of it the best you can.
Remember to ask how easy you can let it be. Remember to breathe and to look around now and then. Be an encourager in the world. We all need that.
How lovely to begin the New Year with you! Let’s smash a bottle of champagne across her bow and set sail. Here’s to a sense of adventure and wild, wonderful dreams.
Why not!
“Why not!” That’s a phrase I adopted a couple of years ago as my “word of the year.” Instead of making resolutions, it’s become my custom to choose a guiding word or phrase as my focus for the year. And “Why Not!” served me very well. It prodded me to step outside my comfort zone and gave me a broadened openness to new experiences.
One year, I chose the word “connection.” Friends I hadn’t seen in years came back into my life, bonds with current friends deepened, and I found myself looking into the eyes of strangers and smiling. It guided me to connect with myself more deeply, too, by helping me to remember to connect with my own heart.
Last year, I chose “Easy.” It saved my sanity many a time.
I mention it simply to offer you the idea of choosing a word or phrase of your own to guide you through the coming year. It can be anything that you want more of in your life.
But that’s not what I really want to share with you today. Instead, I want to share a line I heard in an old movie.
What Matters
“My dad used to tell me,” the doctor in the movie said to his terminally ill patient, “that you don’t measure your life by the number of breaths you take, but by the number of moments that take your breath away.”
Those are the moments of impact, the ones that pull you right out of the ordinary and fill you with awe. They’re moments of revelation, the ones that let you get in touch with magnificence, or beauty, or great calm, or compassion, or relief, or sudden understanding. They’re little instances of the profound, overflowing with a sense of life’s mystery, poignancy and wonder.
They’re what I wish for you today, as we step into this New Year—moments that take your breath away. Look for them, and celebrate them when they come along.
I don’t usually quote my own writing in these letters, but today I want to close with a poem I wrote in 2015. It’s called, “To the New Year.”
Hello, New Year, dawning over the eastern hills with your pastel prism of light. We offer you the wishes of our hearts, our vows to rise higher, to love more fully, to overcome the human failings that keep us from our paths, to walk in contentment and peace, to be more forgiving, to walk in compassion for others and for ourselves, to admit that we know so little, and, therefore, to refrain from judging what we cannot fairly judge. Bring us your new days, and on each of them, let us write what is true and good and beautiful, in honor of the Yes that sings through all. And when we fail, help us to remember that you will unfailingly bring us the light of yet another dawn.
Happy New Year, my friends. I look forward to sharing it with you. May it bring each of us ever nearer to living as our best selves.
“Optimist. Someone who isn’t sure whether life is a tragedy or a comedy, but is tickled silly just to be in the play.” ~Roy T. Bennett
I didn’t know who Roy Bennett was, so I looked him up. Turns out he’s the author of The Light in the Heart. Searching further, I found him on “X”, where he had more inspiration to share.
Here’s a post he made a couple days before Christmas with a quote from his book:
It sounded like a perfect wish to me!
On a morning where I was leaning heavily toward the tragedy side of things, reading his words carried me back to a more centered view.
I read through several of Roy’s posts, featuring excerpts from his book. “A random act of kindness,” he said, “no matter how small, can make a tremendous impact on someone else’s life.” That’s always a good reminder. We need to pump all the kindness we can into the world.
Here’s another one that I especially liked. “Believe in yourself, your abilities and your own potential. Never let self-doubt hold you captive. You are worthy of all that you dream of and hope for.”
That’s pretty profound advise to pack into three little sentences. I sat up a little straighter as I read it and even caught a little smile sneaking onto my face.
Then I read, “Focus on your strengths, not your weaknesses. Focus on your character, not your reputation. Focus on your blessings, not your misfortunes.”
That’s maybe the best New Year’s advice anybody could give. Well, that, and “Love one another.”
If you’re an “X” user, you know how one post leads to another. I danced from Bennett’s page to several others, finding even more uplifting thoughts. I think I must have been guided by my good angel, because they were exactly what I needed to hear.
What better way to start the New Year, I thought as I sat down to write to you, than to share some of the treasures I found with you! So here are a few gems I gathered. “Reminders,” I call them. They’re things we already know to be true that deserve our renewed attention.
Take the time to read through them slowly, to absorb the truths they offer.
“One thing I’ve learned. Life is a paradox. To heal you must hurt, to love you must break open, and to have peace you must face chaos. Never regret any experience in your life, because it is always meant to bring you balance. The light always follows.” ~https://x.com/limitlessmindon
“Making yourself happy again is the biggest comeback.” ~https://x.com/SeffSaid
“Live based on your commitment to a better future, not your default habits of the past.” ~https://x.com/FCNightingale
“Allow yourself to be a beginner at things. No one starts off as excellent.” ~https://x.com/overmind01
“Being grateful does not mean that everything life brings is necessarily good. It just means that you can accept it as a gift.” ~ https://x.com/InspiringThinkn
“Okay,” I said to myself. “I’m ready now. Let the New Year roll! I’ll take all the gifts, and all the lessons they contain, that 2025 has to offer!.”
And as if to top off the gift of these encouraging reminders, my visit to Inspirational Quotes’ page left me with these wonderful affirmations for the coming year. May they sing to your heart!
2025 will be filled with love. 2025 will be filled with peace. 2025 will be filled with healing. 2025 will be filled with progress. 2025 will be filled with blessings. 2025 will be filled with happiness. 2025 will be filled with opportunity.
“Optimist. Someone who isn’t sure whether life is a tragedy or a comedy, but is tickled silly just to be in the play.” ~Roy T. Bennett
I didn’t know who Roy Bennett was, so I looked him up. Turns out he’s the author of The Light in the Heart. Searching further, I found him on “X”, where he had more inspiration to share.
Here’s a post he made a couple days before Christmas with a quote from his book:
It sounded like a perfect wish to me!
On a morning where I was leaning heavily toward the tragedy side of things, reading his words carried me back to a more centered view.
I read through several of Roy’s posts, featuring excerpts from his book. “A random act of kindness,” he said, “no matter how small, can make a tremendous impact on someone else’s life.” That’s always a good reminder. We need to pump all the kindness we can into the world.
Here’s another one that I especially liked. “Believe in yourself, your abilities and your own potential. Never let self-doubt hold you captive. You are worthy of all that you dream of and hope for.”
That’s pretty profound advise to pack into three little sentences. I sat up a little straighter as I read it and even caught a little smile sneaking onto my face.
Then I read, “Focus on your strengths, not your weaknesses. Focus on your character, not your reputation. Focus on your blessings, not your misfortunes.”
That’s maybe the best New Year’s advice anybody could give. Well, that, and “Love one another.”
If you’re an “X” user, you know how one post leads to another. I danced from Bennett’s page to several others, finding even more uplifting thoughts. I think I must have been guided by my good angel, because they were exactly what I needed to hear.
What better way to start the New Year, I thought as I sat down to write to you, than to share some of the treasures I found with you! So here are a few gems I gathered. “Reminders,” I call them. They’re things we already know to be true that deserve our renewed attention.
Take the time to read through them slowly, to absorb the truths they offer.
“One thing I’ve learned. Life is a paradox. To heal you must hurt, to love you must break open, and to have peace you must face chaos. Never regret any experience in your life, because it is always meant to bring you balance. The light always follows.” ~https://x.com/limitlessmindon
“Making yourself happy again is the biggest comeback.” ~https://x.com/SeffSaid
“Live based on your commitment to a better future, not your default habits of the past.” “~https://x.com/FCNightingale
“Allow yourself to be a beginner at things. No one starts off as excellent.” ~https://x.com/overmind01
“Being grateful does not mean that everything life brings is necessarily good. It just means that you can accept it as a gift.” ~ https://x.com/InspiringThinkn
“Okay,” I said to myself. “I’m ready now. Let the New Year roll! I’ll take all the gifts, and all the lessons they contain, that 2025 has to offer!.”
And as if to top off the gift of these encouraging reminders, my visit to Inspirational Quotes’ page left me with these wonderful affirmations for the coming year. May they sing to your heart!
2025 will be filled with love. 2025 will be filled with peace. 2025 will be filled with healing. 2025 will be filled with progress. 2025 will be filled with blessings. 2025 will be filled with happiness. 2025 will be filled with opportunity.
To my surprise, the world outside my window is covered in snow, with more shooting down, and a pair of cardinals waiting, and one of the little birds, too, as if they were posing as a Christmas card and if you opened it rays of laughing joy would leap out and it would be signed, “Love, Yes.”
Each week when I sit down to write these Sunday Letters to you, before I begin, I pause to think about you, the person on the other side of the screen reading this.
I silently ask that my words be exactly what someone out there needs to hear. Maybe you. Maybe someone who needs an understanding smile, a listening ear or a laugh, a pat on the shoulder, maybe a hug.
It’s a kind of meditation I do in honor of the privilege of serving in such a way. It inspires me to give you the best that I can offer.
I confess that sometimes my best falls short of what I’d hoped I could produce. But you keep on reading week after week anyway. And gosh, that touches my heart. Along the way, I hope you’ve found a gem or two to carry in your pocket.
If you’re new to these letters, know that I welcome you joyously. To you, as well as to those who have been with me across the years, I vow to continue to give you my best, and to keep working to make my best even better.
Striving to be our best, after all, is what it’s all about—what these letters are about, what our lives are about. Reaching toward our highest vision of ourselves is what gives our lives juice.
My goal is to inspire you to keep reaching, to keep refining your vision, and to encourage you, when your highest ideals seem impossibly far off, to keep on keeping on.
The Celebration
Here on the verge of the holidays and the birth of a new year, I find myself remembering one of my long-time favorite quotes:
“The purpose of life is the celebration of it.”
I don’t know who said that. But it rings true for me because of the depth of the word ‘celebration.’
On one hand, it means to mark an event with festivities, to express our joy. In this sense of the word, it means the purpose of life is to be glad for it, to look for and appreciate its mystery and wonder, to savor its fullness and pleasures and delights.
On the other hand, ‘celebrate’ means to solemnize, to take something seriously and to hold it in reverence. In other words, don’t take life for granted. Give the mystery and wonder of your life its due. You’re only you once, and not for long. Take the reaching seriously, and delight in the journey.
Whatever holiday you may be celebrating this week, may it be filled with beauty and joy.
I’ll see you next week and we can peer into the New Year together. Sure feels like it will be a humdinger, doesn’t it? Don’t they all?
Whatever it brings, we’ll travel it together, reaching for our best, becoming more and more the selves we always wanted to be.
Come pull a chair by the fire and let’s drink a toast to the holidays. I’ve set out a virtual plate of my fanciest cakes and cookies and some nuts and cheeses and fruit for you. Help yourself!
See the intricate hand made ornaments in this crystal bowl? They come with a story. I love their sparkle and glow. They mesmerize me and send me back in time to the days when my mother made them, stacking sequins and crystal beads on tiny pins that she pressed into Styrofoam forms, arranging the brocade and satin ribbons just so
It was tedious work, especially since she had limited control of her hands. But when her ALS-like disease forced her to retire, she vowed to do at least one creative act every day for as long as she was able. And that particular year, she made these precious ornaments for our Christmas tree.
They’re among my most cherished possessions, and every year they pull me into Christmases Past, where I open a treasure chest of special memories.
I was thinking last night about how much this annual ritual means to me, how it connects me to past generations and gives me a deepened sense of who I am, where I came from.
Holiday celebrations are much different now than they were when I was a small child. The world has become a different place. It moves at a different speed. It seems storm-tossed now, its people searching for something sure to which they can cling in the midst of life’s turbulent seas.
As I lifted the sequined bulbs from their tissue paper wrappings this year, I realized that this annual tradition secures me to my past, to my ancestors, my heritage.
Then I came across the strands of red and silver and gold glass beads that I’ll drape around the beautiful green glass jug that we bought on a family vacation one year as we traveled through rural New Hampshire. That was over half a century ago, and the beads have graced the jug every year since.
That’s the value of tradition. It provides a link to the past. It speaks to our connection to what has gone before, even if the meanings attached to it have transformed over the years.
We light the candles or put up the tree or sing the songs from ages past not because the act embodies the same beliefs, but because, in connecting us to our past, the act reminds us of the lives and cultures from which our traditions arose.
We recall the old stories. We think about the struggles and hardships that had to be lived to bring us to where we are right now. We think about the courage and determination it took to endure them. We think about the values and the love that made the struggles worthwhile.
And even if we don’t think about them, the performance of the traditions in and of itself quickens them in our hearts and has a meaning that our hearts understand.
I hope you have some little token of past holidays that speaks to you of days gone by. I hope you have something that you’ll pass on to your children, or a special memory to share with a close friend or two.
If not, find one, find a token that can hold the memory of this holiday for you, a bauble of some kind, a word that you write on a piece of paper. Hold it in your hand and make a heartfelt wish—perhaps for peace, perhaps for greater joy or faith, perhaps for comfort, for forgiveness and healing—whatever you want the holiday to mean for you. Then, when the holiday season is past, wrap your token in paper, write the date on it, and put it away to discover next year.
That’s how traditions begin. With hope and reverence. And that is what they carry forward.
Wishing you fond holiday memories and a heart full of hope and joy.
It’s one thing to remember it as a fact: “Winter can be wondrous.”
But immediately my crabby inner voice counters with “Yeah, yeah, and bitter cold, too, and a nuisance. Not my favorite. ” And just like that, I think away “wondrous,” burying it beneath winter’s more tangible features as shivers run down my arms.
Then one day snowflakes the size of dimes begin to fall and they keep on falling until the ground and every twig on every tree is covered with them. And the kid in me makes me put on my boots and jacket and climb the hill to get a look at the scene from within it.
And I realize that “wondrous” is breathing all around me.
