Influence

I wryly smile when the news slyly utters those two innocuous little words as often as possible that set many seemingly ordinary people into near hysterics these days – Russian influence.  It’s not a new thing you know – it is as familiar as a heartbeat in the homes of practically every American.  How so?  No, the answer isn’t in your Facebook feed.  It’s much more obvious.  Let’s think about the many Russian ironies embedded for centuries in quintessential American traditional life that Americans never seem to notice.

Every Christmas how many kids dance in the Nutcracker and how many parents insist on it playing in practically every theater in the country?  Of course, as most (hopefully) know the music is all by Tchaikovsky.

Even more compelling are the standard Christmas symbols themselves.  Yes, I know the whole Jesus thing.  But let’s be honest, most people are in it for the presents and Santa.  So, what about Santa?  Well it’s really about a Siberian fungus.  Seriously.  You see in Siberia there is a mushroom, a hallucinogenic one with a red cap and white spots, called Fly Agaric.  Around December it used to be that Siberian Shamans went out to harvest them.  Tradition dictated that they wear a red and white fur trimmed coat (matching the colors of the mushroom itself) as well as black boots (reindeer skin blackened from exposure).  They would often hang them in a sock over a fire to dry them out – hence the Christmas stocking.  A side effect of eating the mushrooms is that it makes your cheeks flush red.  It also elicits a sense of flying.  So, when you’re out and about in Siberia hunting with reindeer and eating Fly Agaric – the concept of Rudolf and the team are not such a stretch to imagine.  And finally, because of all the snow (this is Siberia after all) the Shamans entered the tents of fellow villagers via the smoke hole in the roofs.  So, you see, your typical American Christmas is really a Siberian Koryak magic mushroom fest.

Further influence is seen when everyone whips out flags and firecrackers to patriotically celebrate the 4^th of July – America’s Independence Day.  And what song do they play to accompany the fireworks?  Again, Tchaikovsky.  The 1812 Overture.  It makes perfect sense, right?  So American.  After all it celebrates Russia’s victory over Napoleon and even includes an interlude of “God Save the Tsar.”  Wait, what?

So, you see dear friends, influence is indeed a dicey thing.  Inspiration is typically something you can pinpoint as the beginning of a journey – typically a positive one.  Influence is not such a skip through the daisies.  It’s not always positive and it’s not always obvious.  It’s hard to say at what point it nestles in your conscious or subconscious and makes itself at home.  Even when one recognizes that route altering thought has occurred –  it is rather difficult to say what specific thing triggered it and when.  To be unaware of such obvious influences in plain sight all around us, such as those cited earlier, how can anyone say with certainty that they are not influenced by all the stimuli around them from sources all over the world at practically every minute of every day?  The wisdom of decisions driven by these multitudes of influence lies with the ability of the individual to filter, dissect and evaluate the bugs that stick to the windshield and forgo those that miss the mark or fall to the road.

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

What I want for Christmas…

1. For humor and humiliation to stop holding hands.
2. The clocks in my home to turn back two centuries and stay there so I can wear a coat instead of a bikini on Christmas day in the North Pole ad infinitum.
3. For social media to be obliterated by hackers so I am never again subjected to cat videos, pictures of what people I don’t even know ate for dinner, or anonymous stalkers claiming to love me beyond reason.
4. For strangers on my television and in person to cease and desist from explaining to me in unsolicited, profuse detail their sexual preferences and practices.
5. To never appear in a viral video.
6. For the basis of all things manufactured by hand or machine to require a stamp of humanity – it must have life sustaining purpose, a message to transcend rather than defeat, or a beauty that is directly translatable to the soul – even by google.
7. To find my sense of humor. I misplaced it in the election.
8. A ten step program for narcissists which must begin with the admission, “I am not alone.”
9. A unicorn, so I can start believing in as many as six impossible things before breakfast again.
10. For all electronic devices to be turned off until we have reached the altitude of inner and outer peace and understanding with our universe at which time one may decide whether or not swiping right is even worth the effort again.

I’m an atheist, but nonetheless I can most certainly be bribed with presents and sugar.  So in the spirit of all that is sweet and giving I wish you a very Merry (fill in the blank) and happiness for all!

Presents and Memory

There have been numerous times in my life when I have felt anchored and in many ways trapped by materialism.  Having lived in the same house for 40+ years I have accumulated a lot of stuff as I imagine many others have as well.  Every few years I sold off various things to try and make some room and a little money.  No matter how much I sold it was still a daunting thought whenever I had the urge to move somewhere else.  What would I do with the rest of the “stuff”?  While it has provided me with a comfortable life, I think in many ways it has stifled the wanderer in me and perhaps that has not been such a good thing.

Since the death of my father I have found the notion of departing from even the most banal object, painful if not impossible.  The entire house has been transformed from objects into memories.  Everything is either something father gave me as a gift, something he used, something he never figured out how to use, etc.  Practically everything evokes a memory of him in one way or another.  Parting with any of it, especially for money, feels like a betrayal – a dismissal of all the memories it evokes.

I suppose the greatest testament to my father’s life is not that he had a lot of stuff, but my realization this Christmas that practically every object in this house was either a gift from him, or something he bought in order to exercise his creativity in order to inspire others.  The house is full of the aromas of selflessness, purpose and light.  How does one ever go back to looking at items as merely objects again?

Christmas Greetings

There is a great old phrase that goes something like, “whilst the pessimist and the realist are arguing over how much water is in the glass, the opportunist drinks it”.  It reminded me in part of one of my favourite poem’s from Estonian poet Kristiina Ehin which says in part, “in an instant this moment will be poured into the well of the past and from there can never be drawn out again.”

So as most of us begin our holiday celebrating these next few weeks lets make those special moments with our families and loved ones count.  Don’t over think it, just enjoy the memories as they come.  After all it’s not about what’s inside the package, it’s who hands it to you that is the most precious gift of all.

A box of rocks – alternative Christmas gifts

I’m part of a local group that gets together once a month to admire, collect and study rocks and sand.  They are mainly geologists, but there are a few like me who simply enjoy taking photos of natural formations.

Last night we had a Christmas party.  Everyone brought in a wrapped up rock to give to someone else.  Not polished diamonds mind you, just rocks you find in your backyard everyday.  It was a fascinating scene whereby people opened the gifts like they were priceless.  They tried to guess what kind of rock it was, admired its shape, symmetry and every speck of colour in it.  It was lovely – I thought, this is the true spirit of Christmas.  None of us spent a dime to give a present that gave a lot of joy to its receiver.  We simply took the time to walk outside our door and pay attention to all the free gifts laying around us.

What an interesting idea it would be to have one gift under the tree this Christmas from our free shop.  Not necessarily a rock – it could be a branch you see laying on the ground that has a unique shape that resembles abstract art, a piece of bark from your favourite tree (tell the story of why the tree is meaningful to you).  Even a tiny green leaf or small tuft of moss growing out of the concrete in the middle of the city is symbolic of the capacity to thrive in the seemingly most impossible of environments – a great gift for those feeling crushed by that 24/7 job.  I think it would be fun for children to run around picking up things that catch their attention as well.  After all their young eyes often see beauty in the most unlikely things – a trait we sadly lose more and more as we age.

Obviously such a gift is unlikely to be the only thing under your tree unless you have a really, really understanding family.  But, I would encourage you to reserve one final gift as a complete surprise that they’ll never guess and will probably talk about for years to come.

Kindess shouldn’t be a seasonal virtue

Every Christmas you can be rest assured that your television will be bursting with consumerism ads and animated specials to put all in good cheer. Another sure bet are the “heartstring” ads. Glassy eyed puppies shivering in cages, malnourished children imploring the camera for but a crumb from the benevolent West to ease their plight. Because of course all the suffering children always seem to be “over there” somewhere in those lands without “democracy.”

The myth peddlers are out in force this time of year. They know the pews will be full with those pious parishioners who cross the threshold once or twice a year and drop a few bucks just to ensure a seat in the golden beyond – just in case it’s really there. Because after all, even paradise can be purchased, right? So we ring those 800 numbers and plunk white envelopes in the offering buckets because that’s what you’re “supposed” to do this time of year. Thankful for all the stuff we have and the more that is to come. For come January 2nd the ads disappear, the anonymous slip back into the shadows and the purse strings close tight until the next Christmas comes.