Want

Last week I covered a Social Studies class with some of our sixth graders.  They are currently studying ancient India and we got to talking about the foundations of Buddhism and its influence on Asian culture.  The kids reminded me of Buddhism's big idea - that spiritual actualization and unburdened happiness could only be achieved by shaking the yoke of desire from our lives.  I don't think I ever really understood what that meant until recently.

It's so easy to live in this country and spend all your time looking up: to want a bigger apartment or house, to want more money or more things, to want and want and want until all you have to show for yourself and your life is stuff.  I am no different - I sometimes expend so much energy gazing upward that I forget about what is right in front of me.  I once read some article that cautioned people about the dangers of "as soon as."  As soon as I get a new car, I'll be happier.  As soon as I get a promotion, things will get better.  The truth is that most of us could think of scores of these types of statements pretty easily.  So I've decided to make the conscious and deliberate effort to stop this habit.  It's not easy, especially in this hyper-commercialized and materialistic society.  Have you seen this?  It was all over the place one day about a week ago when I happened to be feeling pretty down.  It's funny and does help to lift the spirits.  Remember this John Mayer song?  It's from the great movie Bucket List, and there is one part that really resonates with me:

Take all of your so-called problems

Better put 'em in quotations

Blessed.

Truth, Mr. Mayer.  Lately I have reminded myself: my life is freaking great, and I have no reason to ever feel sorry for myself.  Seriously - never ever.  God and my parents have always given me everything I need.  Therefore, I conclude that nothing could ever be so bad that I am justified in sulking around or complaining about my "so-called problems."  (And I don't mean to imply that your problems are also pointless and stupid, but mine are! This is me judging myself only.)  So next time I am having a bad day, or feeling the pressure of my first-world wants and my white people problems, I'm going to skip that cute website with pictures of funny animals and just remember the I haves.

I have love all around me from an amazing husband and the best family on the planet.

I have been born into extreme, undeserving privilege, where I have an unfair advantage over the vast majority of the world's population just by existing.  

I have plenty of money to put a roof over my head, feed myself good food, and buy superfluous stuff that I don't even remotely need.

I have wonderful friends and a really sweet dog. 

I have a fun, rewarding, and challenging job that keeps me on my toes and makes me a better person every day.

I have a great life.  

So many people have so much less, yet I want.  I don't know if I'll ever extricate myself from desire all together, but the simply process of remembering what I have is extremely helpful and does make me/keep me a very happy person.  So, shucks, I'm not yet enlightened and I haven't reached nirvana - not even close - but I have plenty of time to get there.

Reclining Buddha knows Nirvana.  Me not so much.

Memories

We are home for the holidays.  The best part of the Christmas season is not the presents, it's the traditions, and it's the memories.  Some Christmas traditions live on for an entire lifetime or even generation after generation.  Others are relegated to childhood while a few are for grown-ups only.  Here is a list of my most beloved holiday memories so far, some new, some old.  

5. Piano parties.  If you did not have a piano teacher who poured you hot cocoa in fancy tea cups and made you select your favorite holiday selection to play while eating Christmas cookies, you really really missed out.  It was one of the best parts of the week before Christmas and it encouraged even the laziest musicians (i.e., me) to practice and liven up the house with Christmas tunes.  

4. Socks.  Every year for at least a decade my mom has gotten me socks for Christmas.  I take really bad care of my socks and they wear out quickly, so I always need them and I always love them.  

3.  Hawaii.  At this time last year, we had just arrived in Oahu to spend Christmas with Rachel and Mike's family in paradise.  'Nuff said, right?  

    

2.  Bing and Mariah.  Whatever Christmas music you listened to as a kid, you most likely now crave as an adult all throughout December.  In our house, the replaying CDs were mostly assorted Bing Crosby, the Mariah Carey Christmas album, and one or two choir-y records thrown in for good measure.  Mike's family played Andy Williams, who I should probably get into as well. 

1. Christmas Eve dinner.  Yeah, my top memory/tradition is all about food.  And family too.  (You really should have predicted that.)  In the early years, we would have Christmas Eve at Aunt Jan's house every year, and she would start a fire in the living room and show us to our presents under her tree and it was awesome.  Now we have dinner at my Aunt Kathy and Uncle Bobby's house, go to church, and then come back for dessert.  It is delicious and fun and Kathy always busts out her awesome reindeer dinnerware.

Tonight we'll repeat my favorite Christmas memory and have dinner.  Tomorrow we drive upstate to see the Brady bunch.  Monday I go with Mom, Dad, and Rob to see William in Maryland.  You already know I don't care about the presents, the decorations or the hype, but I'll take any excuse to enjoy time with my family.    

Lola says have a great Christmas.
Cody says so too, she borrowed these antlers from him. 

Married!

When Mike and I first got engaged, the outpouring of excitement was almost unmanageable.  Everyone freaked - in the best way possible of course.  I remember my cousin (Emily) telling me to enjoy the engagement, as it would go by very quicky and is a very lovely time.  Several others expressed the same sentiment.  My mental response was one of vague confusion - Mike and I have lived together for several years and have been a couple for quite a few more, so I sort of saw the whole "getting married" thing as not much more than a big party.  No big deal.

Wrong.  If we had gone to city hall, maybe it would have been no big deal.  Nothing is changing now that we're legally married.  We are still the same silly couple we've been for nearly a decade.  However, even though Mike has always been a part of my family long before it became official, and visa versa, things for our families have undergone a transformation of sorts.  Let me back up a minute.  I come from an atypically close knit crew of aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins, great aunts, grandparents, grandparents-in-law, etc, and one of my uncles always says that it's not just because we all live close by that we are the way we are; it takes an effort on everyone's part to make time together.  It takes Monday night dinners and Saturday barbecues, and getting on a train to a rained out yankee game together.  Ok, it's not an extra job, it's the best part of most weeks, but it's still an effort. But even with a family like mine, you need a time and space to celebrate the really good things about life, and that's what our wedding turned out to be.  We are a pretty consistently happy group of people (though I can't say I was always on the bandwagon here; the fact that everyone put up with that brat I used to be is amazing!) but at our wedding I saw most of the family happier than I can ever remember seeing them.  Most everyone was already married by the time I was born or really little, so I don't remember many family weddings before my own, and the overflow of joy was truly unprecedented. (Everyone at that wedding really knew how to party, and God bless them for that!)  Of course I was thrilled to be marrying the greatest person I know, but what put it over the top was really the collective love and happiness.  Any bride who seriously thinks her wedding day is only about her is crazy and won't have nearly as awesome a time as I did.

Woohoo!
Photo credit: Uncle Ward Haskell

Everyone says that your wedding day is one of the best days of your life, but it's less commonly talked about that the days, weeks, and months leading up to and following the wedding are also some of the greatest ever.  The engagement is over, the honeymoon is over, and I could not imagine being happier.

Family

Yesterday I was watching an old episode of one of my favorite guilty-pleasure shows.  It was the one where Carrie dates a guy who has some shortcomings (the episode title and a play on words that I'm not going to explain here) and an awesome New York City family.  Carrie subsequently falls in love with the guy's mom and dad and sisters.  In the end, the issues with the guy turn out to be insurmountable and Carrie breaks up with him and reluctantly says goodbye to the the family.   As she leaves the townhouse, her inner monologue tells the audience "the most important thing in life is your family."  She goes on to say that "sometimes it's the one you're born into," in the case of her now ex-boyfriend, "and sometimes it's the one you make for yourself," referring to her own gang of girlfriends with whom she just happens to run into on that very same city block.  I think for most people that's true: that they either fill their free time with their biological family or a small group of close friends, and that one or the other is their main support system.

For me, no such singularity exists.  It's clear that in the modern day, the sorts of relationships that keep a person sane, happy, and connected to their humanity are dying out. With the advent of a myriad of technologies in communication, it's far easier to be isolated from your people than integrated with them.  It's important to go on dinner dates with your girlfriends, even though you could just as easily talk over text.  Try to make it to every cousin and friend's birthday (or call when you're too far away) even when you're tired and irritable.  It's worth the effort just to feel linked to the people around you, whether they're the people joined to you by blood or marriage or by some other association, past or present.  I'm convinced that if everyone in the world had half as many real friends as I do, or was part of a family just half as close-knit, supportive, and hilarious as mine, the world would have a lot fewer problems and would be a far sunnier place.

5 great happenings

This weekend, some very cool things happened. Needless to say, Monday morning was rough.  Here are the highlights...

1. I booked our flights to Koh Samui and found a fabulous resort to spend our final days in Thailand this summer. 
2. Jan retrieved from the attic two items of serious interest: the hundred and something year old veil I'll wear at my wedding, and her own wedding dress which I have stolen and will wear to our rehearsal dinner.  It's knee-length, ivory, comes with a swanky coat, and is so very Jackie.
3. Pop turned 80!  Actually, Pop turned 80 today, but we had his party yesterday afternoon.  Big family brunch at the Hotel Thayer in a gorgeous room overlooking the river.  Mimosas, the whole crew (minus William who had to work, BOO) and as much food as you could possibly eat.  Since we were a day early in our celebrations, I called Pop this evening to sing to him again.  He said he had a great day and he couldn't have imagined anything better.  In particular he loved the read-aloud that us grandkids did (top 25 things we love about Pop - Kathy's very cute idea). He really is a softy; don't let him fool you.
4. Danielle and Susan came over to watch football and eat wings and guacamole.  And my guacamole came out really good.
5. Ben Roethlisberger lost the Superbowl and I didn't have to listen to that stupid "Black and Yellow" song at all on the morning after.  

Good weekend?  Most certainly.