Advent

Waiting, in the general sense of the word, is not very popular among many. But waiting for Christmas is an exception. The four Sundays before Christmas are usually full of cheer, hot chocolate, mulled wine, gift wrappers, presents, glitters, lists and more lists. The festivity is so contagious and commercialized that somehow along the way, its true meaning is lost. How ironic that from the asceticism of the Manger we now boast of an $11 million Christmas tree. A jewel-encrusted Christmas tree is a paradox. But I digress. This is the time for waiting. That's the beauty of this season. When every snow flake is not rushing to reach the ground. The fire flickering in no hurry. The winter nights in extended silence. We all await. Together.

In our stillness, let our hearts be filled with joy, peace and love.   

Mai pen rai

The mantra I lived by while in Chiang-mai. If Liz Gilbert has a word, I've got an expression. In different versions as spoken in different languages: in Kiswahili I subscribe to "hakuna matata", in French anything is "c'est pas grave", in Surigaonon I declare "way kaso", in Tagalog I claim "carry lang yan!". All of these do not necessarily translate literally to the same expression, but they all convey the same message to me- relax! In the imperative. I never realized how hard it is to truly relax. When you allow yourself to absolutely have no worries (hakuna matata), to take nothing as a big deal (c'est pas grave), to not mind (way kaso) and to just, be (carry lang yan). In Thailand I am often reminded that "mai pen rai". I still don't know what it exactly translates to, but I imagine it is in the line of "that's alright-never mind-do not worry-forget it-it's nothing..." and all else that might suggest the same. Not that I got myself into innumerable flurries to merit such advice, but it simply took me awhile to do what I intended to do in Thailand (and in everyday life) - to relax. So after I heard that said to me, by my husband included (he gets acculturated really fast) I tried to say it to myself, "mai pen rai". And it has become since then my "om".

When the head is quiet, the heart is at peace. Consequently, the sun is brighter, the weather is lovelier, the river calmer, the stupas grander, the temples holier, the caves darker, the mountains higher, the animals tamer, the food spicier, the shopping cheaper. Everything just becomes extremely beautiful. The truth is, it always has been. I just need to see it with an uncluttered mind.

Now I am back living on the edge. In a country with only a ceasefire agreement with its enemy, not a peace treaty. What a perfect place to say, mai pen rai!