Randi Kreiss

Looking for a sign – finding it in song

Posted

In these days before Christmas, the first night of Hanukkah, the last moments of 2016, the eve of a New Year, I have been looking for signs of hope.

The holiday spirit seems to be passing me by. Part of the blahs can be attributed (on a person level) to the recent loss of my dad and the passing of a dearest friend. These adjustments need time, we all know. Sometimes the pinch is sharpest over the holidays when there is so much ostentatious joy and celebration.

But part of how we heal and deal is to choose our focus: what we read and listen to and watch.  Sometimes you just have to drag yourself up when the facts on the ground are trying to drag you down. I will offer my recipe for good cheer –– but first the reality check.

This year the usual materialism and free-falling avarice among the populace seems particularly inappropriate. With news and photos of the slaughter of innocents in Aleppo, indeed, with that alone on our radar, how do we trim the tree and light the candles? With the findings of Russia’s fingerprints all over our election, with the ascension to power of a self-proclaimed “fixer” and all his cohorts, with tens of millions in America in despair over joblessness or disappearing safety nets, with humanistic and life-affirming policies in danger for the first time in 10 years, how do we deck the halls or pass out the Hanukkah toys?

Making America “great again” must include a realistic assessment of our problems and responsibilities as a nation and how to move forward in the world without igniting fires, intentionally or unintentionally. The denial of the global and domestic problems facing our country is unbecoming and unrealistic. Peace is elusive. Security is an illusion. And denial is dangerous. I can only hope that the “boy” Melania says she lives with grows up fast.

I am suggesting a little decorum, a bit of restraint and a good handle on the real world, a healthy skepticism towards the “I am the only one who can fix this” mentality.

As always, fiction speaks truth to power. Try re-reading Margaret Atwood’s “Oryx and Crake,” a dystopian novel that suggests we will destroy our world and ourselves if we don’t monitor biotechnology, the environment, the way we raise our children and the good Earth. Among the many cautionary tales in literature, this one hits home, especially now.

So now, how to find joy – however much you want and need—in the season.

Think small. Call an old friend. I mean, really, do it. A high school friend called last night, and we talked for 20 minutes, and it changed the atmosphere in my head. Get out of your house, no matter how cold, and get to the shore. Somehow, the metal-gray waters, moving in rhythms beyond our control, remind us of our place in the world and its enduring power. Food is essential. Cook something delicious or gather with friends or family for something with all the trimmings. Children are essential. Hopefully, kids are part of your holiday plans, but if not, find some. Visit a friend with kids or grandkids or go to a park when the weather settles and watch the sandbox set.

We all have stuff in our lives. For me, my choice is to acknowledge my worries, then set them aside and become open to --- anything. 

I was looking for a sign and I found it today, right here in my community, as I walked one afternoon this week. It was the angelic sound of voices, young voices, singing “O Come All Ye Faithful.” Members of a local school chorale were gathered on a corner, singing their beautiful hearts out. They were dressed for the occasion, and their faces looked so fresh and new and, yes, hopeful. Singing song after song, they sent their pretty voices out into the crisp air. What they offered people, and me in particular, was a moment of sheer joy. The experience transcended the mall, with its piped-in music, stale air and visual overload.

It might have been a moment from another era, a time before the world became such a scary place. I stopped and listened, and in their faces and in their sweet voices, I found the moment of peace and joy I was seeking.

Copyright © 2016 Randi Kreiss. Randi can be reached at randik3@aol.com.