The day after Thanksgiving is "Black Friday," and the Christmas shopping season is off and running.
Perhaps you've heard this before. . . and it's still as important as ever: This year, try a different kind of gift, a charitable gift. You may not have to go shopping at all -- no crowds, no tensions, no sore feet or lack of parking spaces, etc. And, no need to worry about whether the recipient will like your gift or already has one.
Start with your Christmas cards. Many charitable organizations sell lovely cards: UNICEF, National Audubon Society, National Wildlife Federation, Syracuse Cultural Workers, and many, many more.
If you would like to give a gift of food, perhaps as a "stocking stuffer" or hostess gift, consider Fair Trade coffee, tea and chocolate. These products are grown on small (non-corporate) farms or plantations using sustainable methods. The products are sold at fair market value or above, giving these independent farmers the opportunity to make a decent living.
Most important are the gifts you want to give to family, good friends, colleagues. This year, give to one of the organizations that is fighting poverty around the globe. They do this not just by one-time handouts of food (though in a disaster, this is important also). Rather, they assist poor people to support themselves and permanently improve their lives. The organization may teach people new trades and provide a market for the goods created, or may supply animals to give farmers a new start. A number of organizations are doing this now; my favorite is Heifer International.
This group provides farm animals to people and then trains them in sound agricultural methods. Once the recipient has established himself and the animals have reproduced, the farmer then passes the gift along to someone else in the community, usually at a touching "pass it on" ceremony.
Heifer may have originated the idea of a "gift catalog," where one can "purchase" a flock of chicks (for a contribution of $20), a hive of bees ($30), tree seedlings ($60) and on through goats and sheep, llamas and water buffalo. These gifts enable a family to enrich their diets (e.g., eggs and milk) and sell the excess to improve their housing and send their children to school.
You can reach Heifer International at (800)698-2511 or www.heifer.org/catalog.
Finally, for kids consider a subscription to Ranger Rick magazine from the National Wildlife Federation. Through that same organization, you can "adopt" an animal (mostly belonging to endangered species) and receive a small plush version of the same beast as an acknowledgment of your support. I believe the World Wildlife Fund has a similar program.
All these are gifts that can bring extra meaning to the holidays for both giver and recipient. They move us away from a focus on "things." They're a way of acknowledging the interconnection of all the citizens of this small, fragile world, animal and human alike, and a way of bringing into manifestation an expression of the Love and Abundance that embrace all.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Rules for Gratitude
1. Gratitude requires action, not just words. This can be as simple as buying a few extra cans of food when you shop to give to the local food bank. "Pay it forward."
2. Gratitude is best celebrated every moment. Pay attention to the details. Make a game of finding as many blessings for which to be grateful as you possibly can.
3. Gratitude and acknowledgment go hand in hand. Tell people how wonderful they are. Smile often!
4. Gratitude opens the door to many more blessings.
5. Somewhere I heard or read that only two prayers are ever necessary. (Forgive me, whoever you are -- I can't recall the source of this wonderful thought!) One prayer is "Yes!" and the other is "Thank You!"
6. Gratitude points to Grace. Take your objects of gratitude to the symbolic, idea level. Then, delicious food becomes the symbolic expression of the amazing, infinite Substance that sustains all at every moment. (The food still tastes good, too.)
The Indo-European root of the word "gratitude" is gwere, which means "to praise aloud." Open your purse, open your lips, your arms, your heart. There is true gratitude.
2. Gratitude is best celebrated every moment. Pay attention to the details. Make a game of finding as many blessings for which to be grateful as you possibly can.
3. Gratitude and acknowledgment go hand in hand. Tell people how wonderful they are. Smile often!
4. Gratitude opens the door to many more blessings.
5. Somewhere I heard or read that only two prayers are ever necessary. (Forgive me, whoever you are -- I can't recall the source of this wonderful thought!) One prayer is "Yes!" and the other is "Thank You!"
6. Gratitude points to Grace. Take your objects of gratitude to the symbolic, idea level. Then, delicious food becomes the symbolic expression of the amazing, infinite Substance that sustains all at every moment. (The food still tastes good, too.)
The Indo-European root of the word "gratitude" is gwere, which means "to praise aloud." Open your purse, open your lips, your arms, your heart. There is true gratitude.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Little Religion
I think I've always had a religious bent, though it's taken a lot of twists and turns. As a child, I would bury dead birds in coffee cans lined with Kleenex, and read Bible verses over them.
My earliest memories of "church" (at the suburban Methodist church my parents attended) have to do with the organ. I can recall asking my mother why we couldn't see the music come out of the holes in the big pipes. Other early memories include the sound of walking on the flat brown linoleum that covered the church hallways and fellowship room, and the smell of coffee from the giant urns there.
On the backs of the wooden pews were small holders for pledge cards, with little yellow pencils for people to fill out the cards. There may have also been envelopes for the weekly collection. At any rate, I can recall drawing and writing on these with the pencils, or perhaps on the index cards my mother kept in her purse. For I didn't understand the sermons and felt very bored and restless.
I did like singing hymns. I was in the children's choir and enjoyed wearing the white choir robe. At Christmas time, all the candles were magic for me. The Sunday-school children would put on one of those excruciating Christmas pageants for the congregation. All I remember about these is that one time some little kid threw up.
At Easter, I went to church with my parents wearing new patent leather "mary-jane" shoes and white gloves and a hat just like a grown-up lady. Only I hated wearing hats, always, and doubtless tried my mother's patience with my protests. I liked the Easter candles and music also.
There was, of course, Sunday School. One summer I also attended Vacation Bible School and recall only that we made "flannel boards" -- blue flannel for the sky and tan flannel for the ground, wrapped around a piece of cardboard. Then we cut various Biblical characters out of paper -- like paper dolls -- and put flannel on their backs so they would stick to the flannel boards (sort of like primitive Velcro). I had a shepherd and a bunch of sheep, which I enjoyed moving around on the board.
In 7th or 8th grade, my classmates and I were prepared for Methodist "coming of age" -- Confirmation. We were given a little Catechism book, which I believe we were supposed to memorize, and we went to class once a week with the minister of our church. At that age, I was already starting to really search. As I recall it, I would ask the pastor questions about the real meaning of various passages in the Catechism, but he never seemed to answer them. He usually just quoted the Catechism back to me by rote, leaving me frustrated and still wanting Answers.
I guess it was after these classes that I decided I was an agnostic and wanted nothing more to do with the church. So, that was the end of religious phase #1.
My earliest memories of "church" (at the suburban Methodist church my parents attended) have to do with the organ. I can recall asking my mother why we couldn't see the music come out of the holes in the big pipes. Other early memories include the sound of walking on the flat brown linoleum that covered the church hallways and fellowship room, and the smell of coffee from the giant urns there.
On the backs of the wooden pews were small holders for pledge cards, with little yellow pencils for people to fill out the cards. There may have also been envelopes for the weekly collection. At any rate, I can recall drawing and writing on these with the pencils, or perhaps on the index cards my mother kept in her purse. For I didn't understand the sermons and felt very bored and restless.
I did like singing hymns. I was in the children's choir and enjoyed wearing the white choir robe. At Christmas time, all the candles were magic for me. The Sunday-school children would put on one of those excruciating Christmas pageants for the congregation. All I remember about these is that one time some little kid threw up.
At Easter, I went to church with my parents wearing new patent leather "mary-jane" shoes and white gloves and a hat just like a grown-up lady. Only I hated wearing hats, always, and doubtless tried my mother's patience with my protests. I liked the Easter candles and music also.
There was, of course, Sunday School. One summer I also attended Vacation Bible School and recall only that we made "flannel boards" -- blue flannel for the sky and tan flannel for the ground, wrapped around a piece of cardboard. Then we cut various Biblical characters out of paper -- like paper dolls -- and put flannel on their backs so they would stick to the flannel boards (sort of like primitive Velcro). I had a shepherd and a bunch of sheep, which I enjoyed moving around on the board.
In 7th or 8th grade, my classmates and I were prepared for Methodist "coming of age" -- Confirmation. We were given a little Catechism book, which I believe we were supposed to memorize, and we went to class once a week with the minister of our church. At that age, I was already starting to really search. As I recall it, I would ask the pastor questions about the real meaning of various passages in the Catechism, but he never seemed to answer them. He usually just quoted the Catechism back to me by rote, leaving me frustrated and still wanting Answers.
I guess it was after these classes that I decided I was an agnostic and wanted nothing more to do with the church. So, that was the end of religious phase #1.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Laughing Worship
Remember the department in the Reader's Digest called "Laughter -- the Best Medicine"? And the story of Norman Cousins, who watched comedy movies and otherwise laughed his way into recovery from a serious illness?
Laughter just plain feels good (overly obvious statement). But I wonder if genuine laughter isn't getting lost to some degree in our multi-tasking culture, along with so many other values that might be summarized as "stop and smell the roses." Appreciating beauty and enjoying laughter have to be among the greatest gifts we receive during our sojourn on earth. Angels, I would imagine, must certainly laugh when they're not busy playing harps or rescuing lost souls.
Then there's the blessing of being able to laugh at ourselves and our circumstances. Laughter definitely helps to reduce a catastrophizing ego to silence (at least temporarily). And laughter for sure helps to change perspective and banish "little" troubles without having to think about it.
I recently encountered (twice in two days!) an exercise sometimes referred to as "laughing yoga." A friend of mine introduced it to a group we both belong to. The idea is as follows: the group stands up, everyone walks around the room -- and laughs. There are a couple of ways to orchestrate this. One is to shake hands with each other as you meander around the room, look into each other's eyes, and laugh. A variation is to raise your arms over your head and laugh.
At first this tends to feel horribly artificial, but very soon you feel so silly doing it that you start to laugh in earnest. It really helps to have the whole group laughing -- the laughs are deliciously contagious. After "time" is called, it takes a few minutes for the laughter to settle. And one feels incredibly energized, as well as light, clear and aware.
Try this out sometime soon. It's excellent for waking up a dull party or a sleepy business meeting (or a sleepy congregation?).
Kenneth G. Mills has said, "I could never believe in a God who couldn't dance." I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I altered that to include "I could never believe in a God who couldn't laugh."
God bless the fool -- in everyone!
Laughter just plain feels good (overly obvious statement). But I wonder if genuine laughter isn't getting lost to some degree in our multi-tasking culture, along with so many other values that might be summarized as "stop and smell the roses." Appreciating beauty and enjoying laughter have to be among the greatest gifts we receive during our sojourn on earth. Angels, I would imagine, must certainly laugh when they're not busy playing harps or rescuing lost souls.
Then there's the blessing of being able to laugh at ourselves and our circumstances. Laughter definitely helps to reduce a catastrophizing ego to silence (at least temporarily). And laughter for sure helps to change perspective and banish "little" troubles without having to think about it.
I recently encountered (twice in two days!) an exercise sometimes referred to as "laughing yoga." A friend of mine introduced it to a group we both belong to. The idea is as follows: the group stands up, everyone walks around the room -- and laughs. There are a couple of ways to orchestrate this. One is to shake hands with each other as you meander around the room, look into each other's eyes, and laugh. A variation is to raise your arms over your head and laugh.
At first this tends to feel horribly artificial, but very soon you feel so silly doing it that you start to laugh in earnest. It really helps to have the whole group laughing -- the laughs are deliciously contagious. After "time" is called, it takes a few minutes for the laughter to settle. And one feels incredibly energized, as well as light, clear and aware.
Try this out sometime soon. It's excellent for waking up a dull party or a sleepy business meeting (or a sleepy congregation?).
Kenneth G. Mills has said, "I could never believe in a God who couldn't dance." I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I altered that to include "I could never believe in a God who couldn't laugh."
God bless the fool -- in everyone!
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