Bounty day, January 7, 2012

Follow, follow, follow your heart, like a bloodhound on the scent.  I mostly don't ever know where the smells will take me.  Although, that might just be untrue.  I might completely KNOW but dwell within the unknowing.  I sometimes feel trapped within the unknowing that all the pieces and parts and people in my life have given me to construct;  trapped within my own prison walls but with tiny windows, so all hope is not lost.  If I can be looking out when the next clue comes by, I can sometimes catch it.  I mostly feel focused on the walls instead of the windows.  But today felt more like the opposite.  It felt like I was sticking my head out the window this morning at the horse farm.  I didn't feel trapped.  I felt some freedom, some wiggle room, as if perhaps prison walls can be torn down, and there can be some new ways of being in your own world.

It's always beginning...

I was lying in bed last night feeling let down, or at least, anticipating feeling that way.  Wow, I thought.  Through all of these holidays, facing potentially sad-making scenarios like my son being away on Christmas day and some others, I haven't felt that Christmas melancholy this year.  But last night, I wondered if in the next few days and weeks, it would set in.  Maybe it was the thought of going back to the routine of school and work.  But no, I've been "working" all along, and have gotten myself convinced that every day is just that....a day.  Every day is the first day because every day is its own.  No, it was more a little sadness creeping in about the loss of a collective, communal experience for which the holidays allow.  Whether it's time off from a job or school, or the collective notion that it is a season of giving and reaching out, it is something that we are in together.  Blame hallmark or retail, but for all in their "winter" the days do get shorter and the darkness increases.  And being the hopeful mammals that we are, and having promises made to us one way or another that we believe, we celebrate together the coming of the Light.  All I could imagine last night as I lay in my anticipatory sadness, was a flash mob scene.  Did you see the one from the Carlson School of Management:  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uH8FvERQHtM

There we "all" are!  Being "corny" and dropping our bags to either join in or watch.  We let ourselves dive into all of it -  the fun, the relief, the connections.  For a moment, we forget the bills (just for a moment), the pressure, the fears, the aging process, the college loans, the exams, the performance reviews.  But what got me in my mind's eye last night, was what happens after the glorious flash mob completes its offering:  "we" pick up our bags, put on our game faces, and keep walking along our often well-worn paths.  Oh, that is my fear.  That I will be one to pick up my bag, and get back into a rut.  That even for all the fantastic purging that went on in my home (and baby, it did!), the organization, the letting go of that cursed reactivity reflex to emails, phone calls, and even anticipated demands, I will pick up the same old bag.  Even more, I fear and feel sad, that we will all disperse.  That we came together sharing the hopefulness of Light, celebrating our commonalities, and now we will leave each other to our ruts.  We will all walk away from our flash mob.

So the obvious question is how do we keep our flash mob alive!?  How DO they plan those things anyway? It would be worth looking into eh?  Do those flash mobbers have to plan and connect with each other for the coming together and harmonizing?  Do they thus "plan" for spontaneity?  I want to stay open to looking for flash mobs and I also want to be a part of some flash mob mentality this year.  Now I for one, shy away from the resolution making i.e., crazy making process.  Why would I want to set myself up that way!?  What I am doing, in my unplanned but planned, blood-hound-esque sniffing way, is to clear my plate.  I think that is why I cleaned out closets, drawers, and folders;  got rid of clothes and the 5 vases that I never used.  I want to be prepared for spontaneity.  I don't want to be weighted down by "stuff" whether it be external or internal.  If I have too much stuff in my "bag" I'll never make it to the flash mob anyway!  I want to see flash mob potential in every story that I am privy to hear this year, and every connection that I can be part of between child to teacher, alumni and alumni, student to student, student to alumni, dog or horse to human.   

Maybe my sadness is a testimony to the importance and poignancy of the holidays, the solstice time.  Maybe grieving for it says that we indeed did experience a coming together and a letting go.  Hope says it will come again, and maybe if we pay attention, it will be some part of everyday too.