Merry Christmas: a Smack Upside the Proverbial Head

I put up a Christmas tree this year, just like I do every year. It's not a "Holiday Tree," because I don't celebrate "Holiday." It's a damn Christmas Tree. And on my mp3 player, I have roughly 150 Christmas songs -- as well as six Hanukkah songs, and one winter solstice song. This Christmas, Santa is going to make his way into my apartment in the only way that Santa can and give my daughter WAY too much sugar. This Christmas, I am also going to read my daughter the Nativity story - just like I do every year. This year we're doing Luke's birth narrative since we did Matthew's last year. This year, for the first time, she is going to hear the story of "St. Nicholas and the Three Bags of Gold." And when she gets older, I'm going to read her T.S. Eliot's poem "Journey of the Magi."

I mention this because I am struck with the mean-spritedness with which I have been wished a "Merry Christmas" by many of my conservative friends. I think their point (though I'm not 100%) is that as a non-Christian liberal, I'll really get riled up about it - since liberals only say "Happy Holidays."

Now I ask you, who here is REALLY making a mockery of Christmas? The Christian or the Pagan?

Christmas is a great holiday, and even though I do not believe that Jesus was born to a virgin, I want in on it. Because as we all know, Christmas embodies a TON of celebration; it is not just a religious holiday, it is also a secular holiday. It was once stolen by a Grinch for Christ's sake! In fact, it was a secular holiday before it was a Christian holiday. The winter solstice festival dates back before recorded history; the celebration of Christ's birth was grafted onto it in the Middle Ages. Decorating Christmas trees, the giving of gifts, the traditional Christmas feast - they all have their origin in very non-Christian observances. In other words, if Christians can lift a secular holiday for religious reasons, a secular dad can steal it back for his daughter.

I read my daughter Jesus' birth narrative because, just like Santa Claus, it's part of our culture; it's a part of the way we celebrate Christmas. A culturally literate person should know the story. I also tell her the Greek myths. And the Norse myths. Soon she's going to know about Paul Bunyon and John Henry too. Stories are an important part of being human. As my old professor used to say, "We are the only species that learns about itself by inventing stories about itself."

To those who celebrate Christmas, I say "Merry Christmas!" To those who don't, it's only fitting to wish them a good day on their particular holiday too. If someone wishes me a Happy Hanukkah, I'll return the greeting -- after all, I don't want to be miserable on Hanukkah any more than anyone else! If I'm addressing "mixed company" so to speak, heck yeah I'm going to say "Happy Holidays" - not because I "hate Christmas" but because I am showing respect.

So to my passive-aggressive conservative friends, I'll gladly take a "Merry Christmas." Leave off making Christmas a political wedge issue, please.

I Have Had Enough.

So I have this anxiety disorder, see? Not sure how I got it - genetics seem to play a big role. But today I have had enough.

Just today, I was driving a distance of about five miles - and the whole way, I was freaking out about which route was the best. Suddenly, the absurdity of what I was doing suddenly really hit me. I was mentally on a treadmill.

It was not long ago that I made the discovery that I can handle almost any real problem that comes my way, but imaginary ones totally paralyze me. And that is what an anxiety disorder is all about. For me, a tornado watch is worse than a tornado warning. In fact, once when I was still married and lived in a second floor apartment, I saw a weather alert showing that a solid wall of tornadoes was streaming across Ohio and would be in our area in two hours. In a calm, orderly manner, I hustled my entire family into the car and headed for shelter. Once we were there (a family member's basement), I proceeded to entertain my family - keeping them calm until the winds finally did kick up.

For an even stronger example, consider the fact that I was a total mess when I was worried about losing my job, but having actually lost it, I am thriving.

Anxiety gone unchecked leads to paranoia - and I have had two bouts of paranoia that have messed me up something fierce. The latter landed me in the hospital. Since then I have been on a course of treatment that includes both medication and therapy -- and that has been very helpful. Not that the anxiety has totally gone away, but I am able to shut it down sometimes and deal with it better at other times.

"So why do you bring this up?" you may ask.

A big part of being a practicing Buddhist is Mindfulness. It's typically number seven on the Eightfold Path. And being mindful of my anxiety has both blessed me and seriously pissed me off. Because I am at a place now where I am just finding it annoying. Exhausting. Frustrating. I am tired of living like this.

I am TIRED.

Funny how exhaustion can spur one to change.

Today it seems insurmountable. It feels impossible. But I am sick of this.

Everything Happens For a Reason

Every time I hear that, I think of the Donner Party.

The most tragic element of the story of the Donner Party is that they almost made it. They started out in Springfield, Illinois for one thing; they had already come a long way before they met the snowstorm. Along the way they had many scrapes and adventures and some of them nearly did them in. They nearly starved to death in the desert of Utah for one thing. Of the 87 men, women, and children in the Donner Party, only 46 survived the ordeal - and many of them survived only by resorting to cannibalizing the dead. So what, in the grand scheme, is The Reason this happened? Many harrowing and gruesome events occurred - which I will not repeat here - ordeals NO ONE should ever have to go through.

It is a natural reaction I think to claim divine grace in a narrow escape. Many of the survivors of Hurricane Katrina say that God was looking out for them that through the whole ordeal. Richard Dawkins has famously pointed out that God certainly wasn't looking out for them when he sent the hurricane in the first place. And by implication, God apparently WASN'T with all of those who died. I CANNOT believe that God is like that -- that he picks one person to make it through a narrow scrape and abandons another. I must therefore conclude that the difference between the doomed and the rescued is something more sinister: DUMB LUCK.

I am a lucky man. Every day here lately I have been awed, struck dumb in the wonder at how lucky I am. But I am lucky in the way that a guy who walks away from a train wreck is lucky. If I didn't know better, sometimes I'd say that someone was protecting me. But I refuse to believe that - that CAN'T be true - not if (by implication) that certain someone was ignoring so many others. A Buddhist would talk about "karma" -- but I have issues with that as well. I refuse to believe that those who suffer "had it coming" so to speak. That's not what the real concept of karma is about, but it is an annoyingly popular perception of it.

What's a guy to do?!

Well, it's a funny thing. I have also been struck by the sense of awe and wonder found in the work of known atheists. Douglas Adams notably. It seems paradoxical - probably because the word "atheist" has such a negative, angry connotation - but when there are no angels protecting you, when there is no spiritual wall protecting you from the Forces of Evil, the preciousness of life just seems to become breathtakingly real. Every river is ageless beyond civilized reckoning. Every trait that makes us human has been honed and refined through millions of years of struggle, of violence, of survival. For me at least, the idea that "God spoke and it all just happened" seriously cheapens the story. All the juicy bits get cut.

So yes, I am Lucky with a capital "L." And I am learning to deal with it. But no: I am NOT lucky for a reason -- and that makes it all the more precious.