...and Sugar Plums Danced in Their Heads...

While water laden heavens deeply inhale before releasing its impending torrential siege -- the world is heavy ...and still. Every sound suspended within the frosty morning air.


The sky sags, a hushed, grey canopy stitched together with misty vapors and trapped light. Whisper-fine rain begins to swirl within the sudden gusts of wind -- the opening show for the enormous drops that follow -


Angels falling slowly at first, perfect, orphaned, drifting, falling, lonely through the grey skirts of the December sky.

It's Starting to Look a lot like Christmas...

Even the beach has its own tree...

And Santa?

... hanging 10, of course.

The Feast of Saint Nicholas

Did you leave your shoes outside your bedroom door last night? Afterall, it was the Eve of the Saint Nicholas Festival, or as some call it - the Feast of Bishop Nicholas, which is ... today!

After years of celebrating these festivals in my son's European based school, we, out of habit, and out of love, still practice them to this day. The Nicholas Festival was one of those beautiful ways to guide young children in good ways to live. St. Nicholas was a 4th century bishop in Lycia, who cared about people in need, especially children. His whole life demonstrated love and care for others.

My son still leaves his shoes outside the bedroom door on the 5th of December, and even though he wasn't here last night, this morning, (thanks to the secret network of grown-ups) there would be, (hopefully) to his delight, the same chocolate coins, walnuts that have been sprayed gold and various small treats that have always mysteriously appeared in a small basket next to his shoes year after year. (There is NO way I'm putting anything INSIDE those shoes, especially something that is to be eaten! LOL).

This tradition for us started way back in Kindergarten, and on the day of December the 6th, in school, (A parent dressed as) Bishop Nicholas, donned in beautiful blue and white silk robes with white fur trim laden in stars of gold, a white fur mantle, a tall, curved golden staff and his regal Bishop's miter crowning his long grey locks, would visit the classroom along with his helper. They would open his big, heavy, antique book, flip through the gold leaf pages and look up each child by name.

One by one the children would come forward, some with gifts of their own - a poem, a song, a little stone found at the beach, a feather dropped from a flying bird- and Bishop Nicholas would carefully check his book - not for naughty and nice per say, but rather for the strength and weakness of character for the child standing before him. (With the teacher's prior help, he knew these things, you see) He then commended the child on what was written in gold, following their individual name -- their greatest strength -- and they all were so proud! ...and then lovingly spoke of an area in which the child could use some growth and work - a weakness, if you will - and make it clear that he expected to see improvement in that area when he returned the next year. (photo credit: Hollywood Steiner School - where their Bishop wore gold)

A wonderful feast ensued afterwards with much talk of all the strengths and some contemplation of the children over how they were going to bring improvement to the area that needed work, all while sharing in food and fellowship of a wonderful and strong community of family and friends.

What do you feel are your greatest strengths and weaknesses? I think mine are compassion and impatience, and I am going to definitely work on the impatience issue - but I don't have the patience for it right now. Pffft. =)

A Light in the Darkness

Moving. It takes so long to really get settled in and have things back in your comfortable groove and your life moving along in harmony again. It's already been 2 1/2 months since we moved in, and I'm still in full White Rabbit mode - the whole I'm late, I'm late... thing - that is especially tough right now, because we're in full swing of my favorite season of the year. The Christmas Season... beginning with Advent!

When my Royal Sonshine was little - 4 or 5 - one of the festivals his school celebrated was the Advent Spiral, a kindergarten and lower grade festival. It was such a wonderful way to begin the Christmas season, and it is quite possibly one of the most touching events I've been blessed to witness.

For days, the entire school community brings in garland, moss, pine cones and tree trimmings. They spend hours creating a large and beautiful spiral path of enchanted greenery which circles around itself to a center where a single candle stands. At the base of the spiral are red apples, each holding a single, unlit white candle. After dark, families gather with their children in silent reverence. The center candle is lit. Each child chooses an apple and walks with their unlit candle, in the dark of night, through the spiral to its center where they then light their own candle from the central light and as they make their way back, they place their lit candle somewhere along the darkened spiral on their way out.

As more and more children walk the spiral, light fills the darkened night.

Enjoy Advent, the four weeks leading up to Christmas -- the time of quiet introspection and joyful anticipation. In other traditions as well, this season of shortening days and lengthening nights is a time for reflecting on and honoring the past, looking to the future, and searching for inner light in a period of outer darkness - something that so often gets lost in the commercialism that can cloud the significance of the season.

Christmas Eve Sarajevo

I feel much like the White Rabbit - behind and panicked. "I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date! No time to say hello, goodbye! I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!" I'm behind the proverbial 8-ball and can't seem to get in front of things or into the spirit. I've climbed trees for the perfect foliage and berries for the garland, I've baked, and then decided to put together some Christmas music for the Blog. Several pieces I wanted, I couldn't find, and then I remembered the piece with the deeply moving story behind its creation - Christmas Eve Sarajevo.

I remember the first time I heard it -- last year, just before Christmas, I was driving down the 5 -- destination: Cedros Trading Center for the perfect gift for Poor Tired Husband. The most beautiful piece came through the speakers - an instrumental melody of Carol of the Bells and God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen - after the haunting and beautiful cello intro, it became quite clear that the piece was far from traditional - it was very intriguing, and became very intense. I cranked the dial up, and sped down the freeway, palms drumming on the steering wheel, hair flying as my head nodding to the intense beat, I was completely lost in the rock band/orchestra music that shook my Jeep -- I'm sure the inhabitants of any car I surged past looked at me with ... concern.

After the music ended, the Deejays explained that the piece was about a lone cello player -- playing a forgotten Christmas carol in war-torn Sarajevo. That the rock band represented one of the warring sides ... the orchestra, the other, and the cello represented the lone cellist - sitting between the gunfire, playing Mozart and Beethoven on his cello.

It was such a powerful image, such a powerful piece, and the story behind the music deeply moved me. I went home and researched the story. I then went immediately to Barnes and Noble and bought the CD containing the piece I had just heard. I thought it would be filled with other such moving pieces -- I was wrong, but it was worth the money to at least have that one song.

Well, last night, I was pleased to find the music available online, and I've put it on my randomly playing Blog Music here - hopefully it will hit on one of your visits here. In the meantime, here's the moving story of the Cellist of Sarajevo:


"We heard about this cello player born in Sarajevo many years ago (Vedran Smailovic) who left when he was fairly young to go on to become a well-respected musician, playing with various symphonies throughout Europe. Many years later, he returned to Sarajevo at the height of the Bosnian War only to find his city in complete ruins.


I think what most broke this man's heart was that the destruction was not done by some outside invader or natural disaster—it was done by his own people. At that time, Serbs were shelling Sarajevo every night. Rather than head for the bomb shelters like his family and neighbors, this man went to the town square, climbed onto a pile of rubble that had once been the fountain, took out his cello, and for 22 days, played Mozart and Beethoven as the city was bombed.

He came every night and began playing Christmas carols from that same spot. It was just such a powerful image—a man dressed in evening tails and perched on a fire-scorched chair silhouetted against the cannon fire, playing timeless melodies to both sides of the conflict amid the rubble and devastation of the city he loves. Some time later, a reporter traced him down to ask why he did this insanely stupid thing. The man said that it was his way of proving that despite all evidence to the contrary, the spirit of humanity was still alive in that place.


The song basically wrapped itself around him. We used some of the oldest Christmas melodies we could find, like "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" and "Carol of the Bells" (which is from the Ukraine, near that region). The orchestra represents one side, the rock band the other, and the single cello represents that single individual, that spark of hope."

I'm now officially in the real spirit of the season. Finally.