Dec 2006
Joy
It all
started innocently enough.
Me, being four and feeling tough
Decided, if just to assert my best,
To challenge old Santa to a little contest.
I’d heard he was “a right jolly old elf,”
and chose to confirm this my own little self.
Please note that I am no slouch with a joke,
‘Least I always am endlessly ‘musing my folks.
So I crept down the stairway when they’d gone to bed
And hid between presents, saying nary a word.
I dozed intermittently, though I had not intended
To miss the bright moment when Santa descended.
In the wee little hours, I’d drooled down my front
but hadn’t been dreaming when I first heard a bump,
Followed by a rustle, a shuffle, and a “dang!”
As Santa untangled himself from the screen.
Mommy says to always close the fire up tight
So sparks won’t jump out and commence to ignite
The stockings we’d hung by the chimney, I care
And don’t want to burn the place down unaware.
So Santa seemed sour as he set to his work,
Severe concentration like some kind of jerk.
He would never, ever have seen me there
If I hadn’t decided to give him a scare.
“Boo!”, I exclaimed as I hopped into sight
“Good Lord!” he replied, “You just gave me a fright!
What’s a small boy like you doing downstairs
On this cold Christmas morning,” he sternly stared.
“I have to see just how jolly you are,”
I said as I peeked into his bag standing there.
“I’m a little bit hassled, a little behind
And I’d chat more with you if I felt I had time.”
“A-Ha!” I rebuked as I stood up quite tall,
“You’re not a little bit jolly at all.
You look like a grown-up and sound like one, too.
I was pretty sure I was going to be jollier than you.”
“Jollier than me?” Santa considered.
He had to admit that his focus had frittered
Most of his jollyness out of his soul
and replaced it with nothing but responsible goals.
He rose to the challenge and stuck out his belly
And began to distend it till it did shake like jelly!
Never one to lie down in the face of a challenge
I hopped up two stairs and took careful balance
Then pooched out my tummy as far as it went
And wobbled mine back and forth, back bent.
Santa’s old face lit up like a spark
And he started laughing at me in the dark.
“You’re jolly,” he praised, as he looked down at my gut
“And you’ve reminded me I’d fallen into a rut.
My real job isn’t about meeting deadlines for toys.
It’s supposed to be focused on delivering joy!”
“You’ve helped me, my lad,” Santa said with a grin
“And you’ve won this year, but next year I’ll win.”
Then he quietly opened the fireplace screen
And rose up the chimney, jollier it seemed.
By the following Christmas, I’d lost some of my joy
And forgot to remember to challenge that boy
But when I came down on that next Christmas morn,
The living room seemed most uncommonly warm.
I never saw Santa again in my life
Though I’m sure he’s appearing each Christmas Eve night
There’s this warmth in the living room, fresh and clean
In spite of the fireplace’s not-quite-closed screen.
12/20/06
david
Me, being four and feeling tough
Decided, if just to assert my best,
To challenge old Santa to a little contest.
I’d heard he was “a right jolly old elf,”
and chose to confirm this my own little self.
Please note that I am no slouch with a joke,
‘Least I always am endlessly ‘musing my folks.
So I crept down the stairway when they’d gone to bed
And hid between presents, saying nary a word.
I dozed intermittently, though I had not intended
To miss the bright moment when Santa descended.
In the wee little hours, I’d drooled down my front
but hadn’t been dreaming when I first heard a bump,
Followed by a rustle, a shuffle, and a “dang!”
As Santa untangled himself from the screen.
Mommy says to always close the fire up tight
So sparks won’t jump out and commence to ignite
The stockings we’d hung by the chimney, I care
And don’t want to burn the place down unaware.
So Santa seemed sour as he set to his work,
Severe concentration like some kind of jerk.
He would never, ever have seen me there
If I hadn’t decided to give him a scare.
“Boo!”, I exclaimed as I hopped into sight
“Good Lord!” he replied, “You just gave me a fright!
What’s a small boy like you doing downstairs
On this cold Christmas morning,” he sternly stared.
“I have to see just how jolly you are,”
I said as I peeked into his bag standing there.
“I’m a little bit hassled, a little behind
And I’d chat more with you if I felt I had time.”
“A-Ha!” I rebuked as I stood up quite tall,
“You’re not a little bit jolly at all.
You look like a grown-up and sound like one, too.
I was pretty sure I was going to be jollier than you.”
“Jollier than me?” Santa considered.
He had to admit that his focus had frittered
Most of his jollyness out of his soul
and replaced it with nothing but responsible goals.
He rose to the challenge and stuck out his belly
And began to distend it till it did shake like jelly!
Never one to lie down in the face of a challenge
I hopped up two stairs and took careful balance
Then pooched out my tummy as far as it went
And wobbled mine back and forth, back bent.
Santa’s old face lit up like a spark
And he started laughing at me in the dark.
“You’re jolly,” he praised, as he looked down at my gut
“And you’ve reminded me I’d fallen into a rut.
My real job isn’t about meeting deadlines for toys.
It’s supposed to be focused on delivering joy!”
“You’ve helped me, my lad,” Santa said with a grin
“And you’ve won this year, but next year I’ll win.”
Then he quietly opened the fireplace screen
And rose up the chimney, jollier it seemed.
By the following Christmas, I’d lost some of my joy
And forgot to remember to challenge that boy
But when I came down on that next Christmas morn,
The living room seemed most uncommonly warm.
I never saw Santa again in my life
Though I’m sure he’s appearing each Christmas Eve night
There’s this warmth in the living room, fresh and clean
In spite of the fireplace’s not-quite-closed screen.
12/20/06
david
|
The War on the War on Christmas
As sure as
that first hint of winter turns my breath to clouds, some pundit or
another starts encouraging surly crowds. The heathens, see, (or so
they say) are hell-bent to do us wrong by threatening legal action
should our lil’ angels sing a song. So school pageants, which
used to gush with Christian themes, have turned anthropological,
and wishing the wrong one “Merry Christmas” could send
you off to jail.
So fools Rush in where no self-respecting Angel would stoop to tread and proclaim that if we stay this course, Christmas will be dead.
Dead?
If solstice is a time of peace and Hanukkah a time of joy, and Christmas a time of wonderment, what weapon could its enemies deploy? Proclaiming a war on Christmas, Christ, this just doesn’t qualify. ‘Cause Christmas can’t be lost or won unless we accept a lie: That Christmas lives in ritual, in trees and songs and toys, instead of in the beating heart of every girl and boy.
The war on the war on Christmas seems the sorriest campaign, with nothing much to win or lose, meant only to inflame. So peace on Rush, O’Reilly, too, and any other one who fears that the threat of legal action might somehow singe their goose.
There is no war on Christmas! This war is a swindler’s lie. Intended, I guess, to steal the best this season might imply. So, should you feel mistreated, belittled, or behind, chase the Devil whispering in your ear back to the cold outside. Then warm yourself with whatever faith fuels your flaming Tao and have yourself a merry little whatever-you-wanna-call-it now.
May the spirit of this season dissolve this battle line. ‘Cause no one can steal the holiday you’re holding safe inside.
Happy Holy Days.
So fools Rush in where no self-respecting Angel would stoop to tread and proclaim that if we stay this course, Christmas will be dead.
Dead?
If solstice is a time of peace and Hanukkah a time of joy, and Christmas a time of wonderment, what weapon could its enemies deploy? Proclaiming a war on Christmas, Christ, this just doesn’t qualify. ‘Cause Christmas can’t be lost or won unless we accept a lie: That Christmas lives in ritual, in trees and songs and toys, instead of in the beating heart of every girl and boy.
The war on the war on Christmas seems the sorriest campaign, with nothing much to win or lose, meant only to inflame. So peace on Rush, O’Reilly, too, and any other one who fears that the threat of legal action might somehow singe their goose.
There is no war on Christmas! This war is a swindler’s lie. Intended, I guess, to steal the best this season might imply. So, should you feel mistreated, belittled, or behind, chase the Devil whispering in your ear back to the cold outside. Then warm yourself with whatever faith fuels your flaming Tao and have yourself a merry little whatever-you-wanna-call-it now.
May the spirit of this season dissolve this battle line. ‘Cause no one can steal the holiday you’re holding safe inside.
Happy Holy Days.
New Dimensions Radio Broadcast
Here is a way you can
hear my interview program with New Dimensions:
Listen to New Dimensions Internet Radio (NDIR). Six hours of original programming including the current "flagship" program and gems of timeless wisdom from the extensive archives heard 24/7. My Program #3074 will be airing on our new New Dimensions Internet Radio (NDIR) during the week of December 11, 2006.
www.newdimensions.org click on Listen to NDIR now!
ETHICS, VALUES, INTEGRITY AND MASTERY
Michael Toms' interview with David Schmaltz
Program Description:
If you work, you probably manage projects every day, and in the process,
experience frustration and no fun. How do we engage our work life in ways
that give us joy and meaning? Schmaltz says, "In the instant between
perception and action, belief and behavior, lies the power to change the
world." During this provocative and intriguing conversation prepare
yourself to hear how age-old beliefs about how project work may, indeed, be
the source of your misery. He speaks about the difference between
wickedness and juiciness, and how disorganization, disorder and chaos can
even serve a project.
Topics explored in this dialogue:
* How "sitting with the mess" can be beneficial
* What is "informed choice?"
* Why trust is important
* How understanding your intentions is crucial
* Why forgetting "tidiness" can be an asset
Listen to New Dimensions Internet Radio (NDIR). Six hours of original
programming including the current "flagship" program and gems of timeless
wisdom from the extensive archives heard 24/7. My Program #3074 will be
airing on New Dimensions Internet Radio (NDIR) during the week of December
11, 2006.
www.newdimensions.org
click on Listen to NDIR now!
And please let everyone know about this. Thanks!
Listen to New Dimensions Internet Radio (NDIR). Six hours of original programming including the current "flagship" program and gems of timeless wisdom from the extensive archives heard 24/7. My Program #3074 will be airing on our new New Dimensions Internet Radio (NDIR) during the week of December 11, 2006.
www.newdimensions.org click on Listen to NDIR now!
ETHICS, VALUES, INTEGRITY AND MASTERY
Michael Toms' interview with David Schmaltz
Program Description:
If you work, you probably manage projects every day, and in the process,
experience frustration and no fun. How do we engage our work life in ways
that give us joy and meaning? Schmaltz says, "In the instant between
perception and action, belief and behavior, lies the power to change the
world." During this provocative and intriguing conversation prepare
yourself to hear how age-old beliefs about how project work may, indeed, be
the source of your misery. He speaks about the difference between
wickedness and juiciness, and how disorganization, disorder and chaos can
even serve a project.
Topics explored in this dialogue:
* How "sitting with the mess" can be beneficial
* What is "informed choice?"
* Why trust is important
* How understanding your intentions is crucial
* Why forgetting "tidiness" can be an asset
Listen to New Dimensions Internet Radio (NDIR). Six hours of original
programming including the current "flagship" program and gems of timeless
wisdom from the extensive archives heard 24/7. My Program #3074 will be
airing on New Dimensions Internet Radio (NDIR) during the week of December
11, 2006.
www.newdimensions.org
click on Listen to NDIR now!
And please let everyone know about this. Thanks!
Picky and Choosy
I appreciate
Congress for appropriating a million bucks to fund the Iraq Study
Group, distressed that Congress needed to, and concerned that the
resulting bi-partisan consensus could be wasted.
The November 30 Washington Post reported, “The [Iraq Study Group] findings dovetail with recommendations being considered by the military's Joint Chiefs of Staff, who are conducting their own review of Iraq policy.”
The Post continues, “President Bush said earlier this fall that he looked forward to receiving the study group's report to bring fresh perspective to the Iraq crisis. But as some of the options under consideration began to leak out, the White House also ordered its own crash policy review, which began two weeks ago. The administration does not want to be in the position of having to adapt all of the Iraq Study Group report's recommendations, U.S. officials say, and its own review will provide an opportunity to pick and choose options.”
Mr. Bush decided to go it alone in Iraq, without engineering broad, bi-partisan support. He ignored rather than integrated conflicting military and political advice. A lock-step majority said he could. His prior crash policy options bought us Iraq. Now we own it together.
Leadership might mean fixing the fiasco together without anyone claiming credit. Does “we fixed it” sound so politically untenable?
After three and a half years frittering away one opportunity after another, we’re out of options—and patience. Does creating a few eleventh-hour crash policy options from which to “pick and choose” mean that Mr. Bush still doesn’t care about consensus? Rather than cede a precious political position, he chooses to pick and choose?
This administration has worked harder digging in behind misguided strategies than building up bi-partisan consensus. I know building consensus is hard. Reconstructing crashed societies is infinitely harder. He’s lied, lectured, and everything but capably lead. Now that we’re down in this hole together, we could perhaps escape by standing on each other’s shoulders instead of going all picky and choosy. We are down to just about the last choice we’ll get to make in Iraq.
It might be too late, but I still say we should give Democracy a chance. A fresh experience of it here might teach us something important about exporting it over there.
The November 30 Washington Post reported, “The [Iraq Study Group] findings dovetail with recommendations being considered by the military's Joint Chiefs of Staff, who are conducting their own review of Iraq policy.”
The Post continues, “President Bush said earlier this fall that he looked forward to receiving the study group's report to bring fresh perspective to the Iraq crisis. But as some of the options under consideration began to leak out, the White House also ordered its own crash policy review, which began two weeks ago. The administration does not want to be in the position of having to adapt all of the Iraq Study Group report's recommendations, U.S. officials say, and its own review will provide an opportunity to pick and choose options.”
Mr. Bush decided to go it alone in Iraq, without engineering broad, bi-partisan support. He ignored rather than integrated conflicting military and political advice. A lock-step majority said he could. His prior crash policy options bought us Iraq. Now we own it together.
Leadership might mean fixing the fiasco together without anyone claiming credit. Does “we fixed it” sound so politically untenable?
After three and a half years frittering away one opportunity after another, we’re out of options—and patience. Does creating a few eleventh-hour crash policy options from which to “pick and choose” mean that Mr. Bush still doesn’t care about consensus? Rather than cede a precious political position, he chooses to pick and choose?
This administration has worked harder digging in behind misguided strategies than building up bi-partisan consensus. I know building consensus is hard. Reconstructing crashed societies is infinitely harder. He’s lied, lectured, and everything but capably lead. Now that we’re down in this hole together, we could perhaps escape by standing on each other’s shoulders instead of going all picky and choosy. We are down to just about the last choice we’ll get to make in Iraq.
It might be too late, but I still say we should give Democracy a chance. A fresh experience of it here might teach us something important about exporting it over there.
