Christmas is officially over. I started taking down our decorations today after we feasted on chicken cacciatore and a buche de Noel for dessert (recipe inspired by the kids' aunt's instagram post and Martha Stewart). We chalked the doorway after dinner on Sunday, so yesterday felt a little anticlimactic. I think I'll leave the nativity up a few more days, but the tree is down, and the lights are off.
I should comment that our day was marked by anxious alerts to the news, but it wasn't. We did school in the morning, and then I met some friends at the dog beach for coffee and a dog playdate. Very Californian. I was oblivious to the news most of the day, although one of my friends was getting texts from her husband with updates. Without pictures or details, the snippets he passed on seemed minor. The security guards will take care of it, we assumed. But at dinner last night, I heard more details from my better informed children and husband about the mob breaching the Capitol and the belated police response and the unbelievable remarks by the president. Not having watched any videos of the event, there is a part of me that still finds it hard to believe that the incident was as bad as the news on the radio today made it sound - with comparisons to coups in El Salvador and predictions about the end of western civilization. But I also can't believe that people actually believe that the election was rigged and that Trump won the election. I can't believe that a LOT of people believe that. I can't believe that people still actually support Trump after this. Surely, surely this catastrophe will conclusively end any chance he may have of running again in the future - although it seems common sense is not always common. This is certainly proof that the echo chambers of the internet have dire consequences.
Part of my oblivion to current events is because I have been working on my syllabus for a short course in Nature Lit that starts next week - yikes! - and came across the news that both William Kittredge and Barry Lopez passed away in December, Lopez on Christmas day, like my grandfather. I am only passing familiar with Kittredge's work, but Lopez is a favorite. I usually have one of his essays in my syllabus, but one of my favorite pieces by him is an essay he wrote for Notre Dame Magazine - which perhaps explains my fondness for him. In it, he mentions a priest who mentored him and encourages the students of ND, students with many privileges, to make use of their gifts to help others. A simple reminder, but one that bears repeating. My husband and I have given back to the community with small acts of service and hospitality and by trying to live out our vocations of leading and teaching, but our efforts often seem inconsequential. Isn't this often the case? Is it an excuse to focus on small acts with great love, as St. Teresa of Calcutta and St. Therese of Lisieux enjoined, or are we called to make greater sacrifices?
A thorough account of his life and writings can be found at The New York Times.
And heartfelt comments by his widow were posted on his website here. She mentions the optimism with which he greeted each day. I would like to mimic that optimism in this new year - I have thought that one of my resolutions would be to awake and think of something to be grateful for the day before and something to look forward to in the day ahead.
As we go forward into the new year, I am thinking about other ways we can give back, especially as we make choices about our next stage in life.
And if the end of western civilization is at hand, I hope it arrives before we have to make our difficult decisions about what to do next, so that the choice is obvious and no hearts are damaged in the process.
No comments:
Post a Comment