Why is Anyone Here?

I spend a lot of time thinking about the big questions of life. The little ones too, like which bread should I buy for making lunch sandwiches this week.

But I spend a lot of my time just thinking. That's one of the drawbacks of not having a "normal" job. During the day, it's just me and my stream of thought, all questions and observations and memories and hopes and lists of goals jumbled up together.

I pretty much talk to myself all the time. Just not aloud.

Like now for instance. Two guys sit at a table directly outside the cafe window near my table. If not for the glass between us, we could be chatting. They are in their thirties and they are both crocheting. I think it is one of the sexiest things I have ever seen. I am so curious. Who are these men who met at the cafe to crochet together? There's all this gender role stuff and foiled expectation and it's just flat out fascinating.

And I hardly even have time to think about it because there's so much more in my own personal stream of thought.

Each person who sits silently in this room with me, each person who walks past this window - they all have their own hopes, dreams, fears. They are all in the middle of their own stories. Are they happy? Sad? Bafffled? How is their progress on the big spiritual journey that we are all on?

I read the results of a survey this week that found that Americans blend religions together to create their own individualized belief systems. Something like 30% of respondents attend services out of their faith, or believe in Eastern or New Age beliefs as well as Christianity.

That's me. I'm currently blending the very conservative system of Seventh Day Adventism with Wiccan beliefs. My family is keeping the Sabbath from sunset to sunset. Yet, my best Christmas present so far is a new deck of luscious Celtic Tarot cards. I can't wait to deepen my reading practice in 2010.

One of my favorite aunts died yesterday. She had been ill a long while, but she was too far away for us to visit her. I am feeling the gap that her passing leaves behind, even in my distant routine, removed from her day to day life. I am sad and okay with it at the same time. For a 40-something, I've spent a lot of time thinking about death. About endings. About transformations and rebirths.

The grief I feel for her loss reminds me of other losses, other griefs, many of which stay remarkably fresh despite the curing effect of time. At the same time, there are so many joys in my life each day, and at Christmas time they are particularly profound.

So joy and grief, ends and restarts - it's just a crazy bowl of eggnog isn't it? Try to sip your drink, and I'll savor mine as well. I wish I could have you all over for a festive Christmas dinner Monday, when we could get pleasantly tipsy and warm and discuss all this next to the glowing fire. Instead, I'll have only a few close friends over, but I'll send love and good thoughts to all the rest of you, my dear readers and internet friends.