You will have to forgive me, as I get a little giddy this time of year. Perhaps it is the knowledge that the one day of the year where we all try to be a little nicer to our fellow man fast approaches – or maybe the smiling faces of children when they see the Christmas decorations in the storefronts and malls.
It isn’t the gifts, or money spent – but the love and thoughtfulness that goes into each one.
I will confess I was a little nervous as the festive season drew closer – for I will be alone on Christmas for the first time in many years. I am grateful that it hasn’t done anything to affect my possibly just a little over-joyous mood – if anything, I’m even happier. Part of my happiness is directly linked to my retail job position – I have met so many joyful shoppers and cute little babies – how could anyone not be happy?
Yes, we all need to be mindful of those in need, all year long – but especially now. My own gift to myself is to anonymously (where possible) buy gifts and food for as many as I can afford this year. It feels wonderful! Please try it yourself – find someone in need, and surprise them with a Christmas they would not otherwise have. It will be the greatest gift you will ever receive.
Time for a little Christmas cheer! We’ve just passed the one month mark – less than thirty days before Christmas! In celebration of a Yoga Christmas this year, I’ve made a few ‘modifications’ to a very famous little Christmas poem written by Henry Livingston…or was it Moore? The jury is still out – but I would like to think Henry Livingston wrote it in 1808…
A Visit from St. Nicholas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a yoga mat was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of stretch pants danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of asana guides to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature yogi, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old book, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen!
To the prop of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As bamboo towels that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with a water bottle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in yoga socks, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of candles he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a pedicure just opening his pack.
His eyes — how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a cookbook he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know meditation cd’s had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the incense he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”
I hope these suggestions gave you some great ideas for friends and family – or even yourself! Yes, a pedicure may seem like a bit of a stretch, but I see a lot of my feet when I am doing my practice! Here are my suggestions in the order in which they appear in the wonderful poem I hacked to pieces above (I’m sorry…really) – linked for your convenience: