Last week brought weather week to L.A. County as heavy rains upended many Christmas plans. Still, after unrelenting rain and flash flood alerts on Christmas Eve, the sky Christmas morning had a brief moment of glory; when I opened the kitchen binds, there was actually a shocking patch of clear blue sky with surrounding white clouds. Those clouds were already receding into the gray and black overhanging the mountain, but I was cheered by the unexpected reminder that the storm would not last, even if we had to evacuate. (The suitcases were packed and on standby at the door.) The space of sunlight brought to mind the Biblical story of Noah's Arc, the rainbow, and the evening dove that carried the olive branch, bringing a message of safety and peace: the world continues. The storm here has now passed, but we are already warned of another one forming for New Year's Eve, while snow storms blast the northeast. Across the planet, storms form and dissolve--aspects of the ongoing shifts in Nature and human activity.
This week is traditionally the world's year-end-review. Inevitably, we begin planning 2026, while we are bidding goodbye to 2025. It's been an unusually disruptive year in the U.S., which has had world-wide impact--all the more reason to spend sometime in spiritual reflection, before charting your intentions. And, all the more reason to begin with review of the positive aspects of your life, alongside the hardships and losses. Over the years, Hillside has practiced forgiveness on New Year's Eve, a powerful time of meditation, release, and healing that truly opens the way to celebrate the fading past and incoming future. This year, perhaps because it has been so disruptive for so many, it seems very important to also acknowledge the wondrous aspects of life--beauty, laughter, discovery, companionship, and the simplest moments of delight that have nothing to do with politics, exploitation, money, or fame, yet have everything to do with Life.
This week, consider a year review of delightful moments. The other morning, I decided to wash a few dishes left in my sink, before any evacuation call came. As I squirted some dish soap in the sink, an iridescent bubble, about the size of a quarter, suddenly flew up, heading for my face--I reflexly drew back, but it propelled forward aimed at my nose. Instinctively, I took a deep breath and blew it away. The bubble shot back to the kitchen window and popped! The whole event was so absurd, I burst out laughing. There was something magical about it, lifting the burden of the heavy rain, the Christmas pressure, and ushering in the childhood delight of my grandchildren. Later in evening meditation, the inner voice spoke, "Maybe Life is actually about joy, discovery, light and laughter." I considered the master Ryokan who immersed himself in play as the highest expression of his Zen (poem in link below) and then I considered a powerful line by the unmatched German poet Rilke, "Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness" (link below). Unquestionably, 2025 brought highly serious events; I'm sure 2026 will have it's share of serious events. But what would Life be, what would Earth be without Laughter? Why not welcome the New Year with renewed delight? Consider that delight and laughter keep us strong, even in serious times. Happy New Year! (Susan Nettleton)
https://thedewdrop.org/2020/06/03/ryokan-playing-with-the-children/ https://bloomofthepresent.org/go-to-the-limits-of-your-longing-by-rainer-maria-rilke/ https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/54327/to-the-new-year https://poetrysociety.org/poetry-in-motion/the-moment