How to Live Forever

My great-grandfather’s funeral last week was overflowing; my cousins and I had to stand in the aisles. The room was a-buzz as both young and old got up to share stories. We laughed and cried without discretion. We cajoled one another, embraced, and hollered our support. It was the best funeral I’ve ever been to, because it wasn’t a sermon so much as an untempered dialogue. It made me remember that the root of both grief and joy is love. In that crowd it was tangible.

Great Grampy’s legacy is assured because he asserted his love with countless kind gestures. When my aunt announced that she wanted to be a mechanic as a child, he gave her a set of tools and asked her to help him fix his truck. When I was little, he would point to a picture of me and ask “Do you know who that girl is? I love her!” Every time any of us visited he would stand us in the same spot in the kitchen and snap a Polaroid. I imagine he had stacks of Polaroids somewhere that you could use like flipbooks to watch us grow.

The stories extend backwards and forwards in time. The oldest grew in light of his loving presence, and pass that love down the line to the youngest. I wonder – who taught Great Grampy to love? And who taught those people to love? And those people? How much cumulative loving intention throughout the generations of people resulted in a man so radiant with it?

The effort of understanding it is like seeing a ripple on the edge of a lake and trying to return to the point where a hand touched the water. Love - that sublime energy that enlivens us with joy and sorrow - carries humankind through the ages, like a disease without antidote. One sincere gesture lifetimes ago can still be felt among the living, and the gestures are countless. This is our lineage: our actions have vaster consequences than we can see.

I feel the gravity of my heart. We express ourselves spatially and temporally because we’re bound by matter, these bodies that wither and pass. But the currents that run through us are beyond time and space. Our intentions radiate into the lives of the people we encounter, triggering chain reactions beyond our comprehension. What kind of ripples are you sending down the line? Are you fully open to being a conduit for the love you receive?

Walt Whitman writes:

What do you think has become of the young and old men?
And what do you think has become of the women and children?

They are alive and well somewhere,
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,
And ceas’d the moment life appear’d.

All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what anyone supposed, and luckier.

The night before the funeral I dreamed he was laid out at my grandparents’ house. The rest of my family was sad and frantically busy. I watched them leave the room as they rushed off to get ready for the funeral, and when I turned back to look at him, he was sitting up, smiling at me.

His blue eyes shone. I said, “I thought you were gone.” He shrugged and said, “But I’m right here!” We laughed, and I said, “You’re going to freak everyone out if you are awake like this at your funeral.” The idea cracked us up. I looked to the door to see everyone rushing back into the room, and when I turned back, Grampy was laying down with his eyes closed again. He had the slightest grin on his face, as though he were keeping a beautiful secret. That's when I woke up.

Merry New Year

Ah, the holidays. There is something so refreshing about seeing them end.

This year is the first that I’ve had my own place, so I took it upon myself to find my own meaningful ways of cozying up for the beginning of winter. I think a lot of Christmas traditions are empty ceremony, and I've definitely had my fair share of holiday cynicism, but being a Scrooge and shunning Christmas as a whole doesn’t really suit me. I believe there is value in ritual as long as it is carried out mindfully.

I decided to see how I could adopt Christmas in a way that nurtures my well-being, rather than decimating it by carrying on with all the commercially-mandated rigmarole. Here’s what I found enjoyable about the season this year:

+ Stringing cranberries and popcorn: This is a tradition I learned from my mum, and one I’ll definitely keep. It involves a certain measure of patience, and the result is a decorative garland that is pretty and simple. Not to mention biodegradable.

+ Hanging real pine garland over my windows and doors: It’s an inexpensive way of being able to enjoy that comforting pine smell without all the fuss of a tree, and they don’t look out-of-place or depressing if they are still up after New Years.

+ Putting mistletoe up over the bathroom mirror: If you want to put the moves on someone in a doorway, just do it. There shouldn’t have to be some little plant dangling up there for an excuse. It can, however, remind you to love yourself every morning while you’re brushing your teeth. Don't accept this as an act of vanity; 'tis is the season for spreading the love, and it starts at home.

+ Avoiding the mall: Just about everyone on my list this year either got books, or things I made. I enjoy the challenge of the creative process when it is met with the motivation to brighten someone’s day. My favorite gift to give this year was a portrait I painted of my father in a bear suit, which got a little laugh out of him – exactly what I wanted for Christmas. Mix CD's and knit goods are also very sincere.

There were also a couple of things I learned didn’t work for me:

- Mulled wine and roasted chestnuts: Maybe I did a poor job cooking them, but neither was very palatable. Next year I’m sticking to hot rum-and-cider and gingerbread.

- Tacky decorations: I hung the bright red stockings that my grandmother gave to my roommate and I. She also gave us place mats and pot holders with images of Santa Claus and a snowman holding hands. Very cute. While I enjoyed the daily reminder of how sweet my grandmother is, they became a bit of an eyesore. I took them down after a week. Sorry, Gram. (Though the pot holders stayed – they won their place in my kitchen by being practical).

- Sticking around on Christmas day: I enjoy celebrating Christmas with my family on Christmas Eve, and sharing gifts and breakfast on Christmas morning, but by the time the afternoon hits it seems like everyone’s energy level drops through the basement. Next year I’ll avoid sharing in the communal lethargy by driving north to Maine or Vermont to enjoy some solitude as my own Part Two to the holiday. I’m finally set on the fact that there is nothing wrong with wanting to be alone on Christmas.

At the end of all of it, a new decade begins. I am grateful for the fact that Christmas, a holiday so concerned with the past, is balanced each year by the immediate onslaught of a holiday that encourages us to look into the future.

Happy New Year! May your 2010 be full of blessings, and may you find the wisdom it takes to be aware of all of them.