Traditions: Observing, Breaking and Creating them.

Last week I pulled the plastic container marked “Christmas” out of my closet, dragged my potted Norfolk pine into its holiday corner of the living room, put on my CD of Amahl and the Night visitors (a Christmas operetta I first heard when I was 5) and started with the lights.  You know how that goes!?  After I’d woven the strands around the tree, I realized that the plug was at the top. I had to start all over again – smiling!  I took my time removing the paper towels and bubble wrap from the ornaments – savoring each one.  My daughter made this one, others were gifts, my mother passed them on and they all have a story and a memory.  As I trimmed the tree I could feel a warmth spread throughout my body as I pulled this thread from my past into the present.

Webster’s Third International dictionary defines traditions as “the process of handing down information, opinions, beliefs and customs by word of mouth AND an inherited or established way of thinking, feeling or doing”.

If a belief is a thought that we have repeated over and over until it’s set in stone, a tradition is an action or activity that we do over and over until it takes on the quality of something sacred and special.

My family celebrated Christmas even though my father was Jewish.  I have fond memories of going out with my Dad and my sister in the cold NYC winter to pick out the perfect tree.  We all decorated it and I’ll always remember the magic of turning the lights on for the first time and the glow of the tree in the dark.  There were the stockings laid out on Christmas Eve and the cookies and milk for Santa and carrots for the reindeer.   The first program I remember I ever saw on our new TV was Amahl and the Night Visitors – the story of a crippled boy who is healed after meeting the 3 wise men. He accompanyies them to Bethlehem walking on his own and carrying his crutch as a gift for the child.  The music is timeless and so am I as I sing along.

My parents are no longer alive and my sister and her family celebrated in San Francisco where they live.  My daughter spent time with her Dad and with friends and I celebrated with old and new friends.  I created some new traditions, let go of others, but held onto those that warm my heart and create a sense of continuity, community and comfort.

I’ve made and dismantled traditions as my life has changed.  When I start to feel obligated and resentful, I know it’s time to take a look at whether or not the tradition is worth holding onto or whether it’s time to tweak it, let it go or create a new one.

Sometimes the people who we think of at this time of year are not here and our circumstances may have changed – for better or for worse.  We can think that if we can’t recreate things just the way they were – it’s not worth it.  I know differently.  The purpose of traditions – those acts we perform over and over – is to stir something deep inside us; to connect us to our ancestors and all who have gone before us and to remind us of a truth  that illuminates our lives with love.  This light can emerge in many ways.

I decorated my tree by myself this Christmas and I’ve got to say that it didn’t dim the magic.  When I turned off the house lights and beheld the colored bulbs twinkling and the ornaments shimmering as I sang along to Amahl – I was delighted.  I was 5 and the bearer of a tradition that I have cared for and repeated for many, many years.

We are creative beings.   Even though nothing stays the same, it is our traditions that ground us, provide comfort and plug us into continuity, community and into the warmest places in our own hearts.