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    Wintry Mix

    As I write, big fat flakes of snow are falling against a pale gray sky that is struggling to turn to daylight.  It is too early to know how much of the storm will be snow or freezing rain or just plain rain, though all are both possible and probable.  If there is mostly snow or mostly rain, some of those I know will be sure to say the weather forecast is never right.  My experience is that the weather forecasters are usually quite accurate about pointing out the probabilities and then sometimes the probabilities at the far end of the spectrum are the ones that happen, which makes the forecast apparently off the mark.

    I am always entranced with the anticipation of a storm.  It only takes the slightest shift in temperature in the atmosphere or a move of a degree or two of the pressure system for there to be a dramatic change in the outcome — a day of rain or a half an inch of ice or several inches of snow.  I think all relationships — to places, jobs, people, illnesses, our meditation practices are like that.  Just the subtlest shifts in atmosphere and attitude and the whole thing can seem completely different.  What I continue to work on is to open to the best path that results from the combination of factors.  If because of a less than optimal shift, there is an ice storm with power outages and downed wires and trees, then I try to learn why it happened, see the beauty, and try to shift in a better way.  It is hard, and I do not always succeed, but I continue to make the effort.

    I remember my first big icestorm.  I was in high school and at a big party a few miles from my parents house.  We were teenagers and mostly oblivious.  We just thought it was raining and continued partying.  At some point, we realized that everything was coated with ice, and then we needed to start calling on help to get home.  It was disappointing to have the party end prematurely, but very exciting to have the wild and unusual weather.  And the next morning, when the temperature dropped and the sun came out, the whole world glittered.

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    Why I Stuck With Tradition for the Thanksgiving Day Yoga Fundraiser

    When I selected Oxfam to be the donee of the proceeds from my first Thanksgiving Day Yoga Fundraiser ten years ago, I took into account that its mission is to “create[] lasting solutions to poverty, hunger, and injustice,” which seemed to me deeply related to what I believe is the best aspect of the history and tradition of making a holiday of thanks giving (leaving aside the shadow side of the history).  Last night, when I was writing the newsletter inviting all to come and join me for the fundraising class, I thought about whether some readers would wonder why the donee of the proceeds wasn’t being changed to the Red Cross or Doctors Without Borders or other reputable organizations that are out in the field helping those known to us who are closer to home and are still suffering from the ravages of Hurricane Sandy.

    Over the past few months, in ever increasing quantity as the elections approached, I received several emails a day and sometimes in an hour (and if I had been willing to answer the phone, calls) pleading for me to donate money and time.  For some, it was asking again and again, even though or perhaps especially because I had given generously already.  In the face of an unexpectedly large disaster, we cannot help but wish we could do something to help.  Not surprisingly, I am feeling a little of what they call in the business “donor fatigue,” and I expect that many others feel the same.  It is important, when faced with urgent cries for help, to remember that the preexisting calls on our resources have not gone away (newspaper reporting and the absence thereof notwithstanding).  I do not question for a minute that those who are able to do so should share some resources with those whose homes and lives have been turned upside down by Hurricane Sandy, but it is also important to remember and continue to support the causes that are not today’s news.

     

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    In Which Ganesha Oversees the First Popsicles of the Season (Lemon-Strawberry)

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    The strawberries were very nearly mashed into juice by the hot walk from the Penn Quarter Fresh Farm Market Home, but no matter.  I had intended to make them into popsicles.  I couldn’t resist the bouquet from one of the farmers.

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