After Christmas: Let Boxing Day be different
My mind is not noisy with desires…
And my heart has satisfied its longing. Psalm 131
As I write this, deep snow has settled on the evening of December 25th. The Christmas shopping ritual has just ended. On my car radio, among the tinny carols, I hear Van Morrison repeat a phrase from Poetic Champions Compose: non-attachment, non-attachment.
For those of us like me, who overspent again this year, and felt retail’s hollow afterthought where our spirit should have been, the song rings like an anthem for 2017. Non-attachment is currently best known as a Zen way of thinking about the world without clinging to it, nor to our position in it. Yet the above Psalm, quoted by Muslim, Jewish and Christian holy men, reveals that the idea of non-attachment continues in many other spiritual traditions.
As I quietly step in, brush off the snow and hang up my coat, I find solace in the silence. Perhaps it’s not too late to find a new path for the holidays. I live five minutes from a supermall, and the thought of returning there for Boxing Day shopping tomorrow sickens me. So does the thought of plowing through all the excess food and gifted goodies in my kitchen.
Boxing Day is so named because, for hundreds of years, those who had plenty would distribute their extra food and clothes to the poor. The idea of using this day for the prosperous to accumulate yet more, is relatively recent, a nightmare invented by retailers.
As I turn off the tree lights for the night, a thought comes to me. My local YMCA is collecting food for local shelters and the town food bank. I remember that late on Christmas Eve, I noticed that, though we are one of the wealthiest communities in the country, the box was only half-full. Tomorrow afternoon, Dec. 26, is the time scheduled for the box to be sent out. I can still make a difference!
I shrug off the fatigue I’ve been feeling from a day of too much food, too many gifts, and swing into action. I find a large box of my own, and fill it with tinned soups, stews and all my extra boxed cookies and chocolate. A clear recycling bag enables me to add the clothing I’ve received but don’t need.
I have a new plan for tomorrow now. I’m going to bypass the mall, drop off my donation, and offer to help distribute to the needy. As William Blake, the poetic conscience of the early Industrial Age, wrote:
“ You never know what is enough until you know what is more than enough.”
Nature's Path 