(Pat’s Letter)

❄️

Nature’s Solace

(  a rather simple story from a different time )

The snows came early and stayed long, much like a heartache. Not completely uncommon, but unlikely for the time of year. The snows  fell fast with seemingly a purpose. Possibly Divine? They smoothed out the landscape like only snow can. Flawlessly covering, and calming, both heart and mind. Possibly it was an attempt to hide some old sins, or maybe to cover some new misgivings, or perhaps even, to help hold a hurt we could no longer hold. It soon became a heavy blanket in which to lean. Like a blanket we had when we were young. When we were so very little, so very trusting, and so very naive – or was that only yesterday?

But Nature often mirrors and is forever forgiving. With the snow, the trees take the weight and bow in prayer, lest we forget. The birds dance the air, reminding us there is still joy to be had, but we must move. Winds blow, shifting directions easily, saying we only need to wait, “for this too shall pass”.

Alas, the storm caught us off guard, yes, but there will be sun again. This we can trust. There will be a clarity. The snows will melt leaving us awash in a new reality. Somewhat muddied, but undoubtedly, much like the old reality. One we will recognize all too well.

On the second day of the storm, a curious fog moved in. Pushing everything inward. Holding us. Perhaps to give us a bit more time. More time to hunker. More time to heal. For once again, we move closer to the fire.

Soon you may turn your face to the returning sun. Let it help dry your tears or gather your fears. Take this time to pray your own prayers. Say your own words. Listen to your own heart. For the Winter will soon be upon us, but the cold is already here.

On the third morning after the storm, a timorous old man walked out with a shovel in hand. The morning was blindingly bright. The sky impossibly blue. But all was calm. The junipers, still snowy, had icicles hanging from their branches, perfectly spaced, as if placed by an unseen hand. It looked for all the world, like a forest of Christmas trees.

So with a heart somewhat lightened, the old man bent to the task. The morning light sparkled briefly off the unbroken snow, as he began to shovel an unsure path. He mumbled a few words at the beginning, known only to him, and maybe his Maker. Some say it was a curse. Some say it was a prayer. It probably doesn’t matter, for he was determined this would not be a directionless path. So he shoveled a path not from where he was, but to where he needed to be.

May peace find you this season.

Love, Pat   Christmas 2024

(Nichole’s Letter)

❄️

Christmas 2024

Can you hear the harmonic sounds of the Christmas story? Pause and listen for this gift of music – may it prove a guidepost to help untangle the cacophonous sound of our world.

For me this year, piano music has been a guidepost. Retirement has allowed me to touch the piano daily. My fingers on the piano keys awaken sacred moments, similar to putting pen to paper in my morning journal. Piano practice parallels practice in creating my life’s melody: learning how to strike the right chord, when to pause, how to let harmony emerge from the everyday moments, how to sit with clashing dissonate notes, when to slow the tempo, when to crescendo.

The diverse contemporary chords heard within our family is music we cherish. We have enjoyed several visits with Lauren and Peter before and after the birth of Vera in May. We look forward to the sounds of Walker (3 years) and Vera (7 months) Christmas morning when we visit them in the Denver area. A few miles away (in Highlands Ranch, very close to where we lived back in 1992), we will embrace the concerto at Troy and Jami’s home with Jami’s two boys, (Carson 13 & Holden 11), Korbin (15), and Maddie (20 – she now lives in the Tucson, AZ area) – and of course our combine three dogs and two cats.

Pat takes pause from maintaining our desert home, to create artistic sights and sounds in his studio. His singing along with music is often the backdrop for his work; and for a days-end reward he can be found expressing himself on one of four guitars.

Together we have enjoyed both city-sounds and rural-quiet traveling within and outside our state, both alone and with others. Together we continue to marvel at the sights and sounds of living in north-central New Mexico. We lead quite the quiet, simple life surrounded by the seasonal gifts of nature (e.g., emerging lizards signal the start of spring, strolling tarantulas signal fall).

Back to the sounds of the Christmas story: gifts wrapped in miracles - gifts tied with heartstrings – gifts that nurture the soul.

First the gift of Spirit – unconditional love. Next the gift from Mary – her selflessness to bring heaven down to earth. The gifts of her fiancé – trust and faith. The gifts of the Child – bringing forgiveness, wholeness, and second chances. The angels’ gifts of comfort, joy, and peace - the reassurance that there is nothing to fear so rejoice. The shepherd boy’s gift of generosity – bringing his favorite lamb for the Childs birth day. The innkeeper’s gifts of compassion and charity – providing a warm, dry, safe place for the homeless family to stay. And finally, the Magi gifts of wonder, acceptance, and courage – accepting the impossible.

May your heart be open to hear the sounds and receive the real gifts of Christmas. Pause the tempo of life to consider how all the individual notes of your life can come together harmoniously to awaken the sense of joy, wonder, and peace within your self and with your circle of family and friends.

Peace & joy, Nichole

(Inspired by Breathnach, S.B. (1995). Simple abundance. NY: Warner Books, Inc.)