Jingle Bells

The Christmas season is always a time of maximum self-absorption for me. At no other time of the year am I more keenly aware of how I feel. What I want. At any given moment during December my consciousness is filled to bursting with details about my shopping list, my to-do lists, frustrations about my time pressures. I worry about my finances. I invest massive amounts of energy strategizing on how best to implement my ideas about how the holidays should be spent, as opposed to those of my husband, a man seemingly bent on defying me at every turn. And then there’s all that running around, driving to and fro across the state, strapped in behind the wheel, trapped in the bubble of your own mind, ostensibly in the service of others but in reality being driven like the proverbial dray horse under the lash of your own feelings & inclinations…wondering where to park, irritated because your fingers are cold, crabby because you’re running late, indignant about the party you have to attend…not to mention the unceasing stream of decisions to be made. Scotch pine or Douglas fir? Poinsettia or holly? Roast beef or turkey? Boots or heels? Medium or large? Credit or debit?

One of life’s most evil ironies is that the more you try to think about others, the more firmly focused your attention – by necessity – stays on yourself. Which is why I’m so grateful to the Salvation Army.

Yup, the Salvation Army.

Consider this: Ever since Thanksgiving, those people have been out there in front of your supermarket, Wal-Mart or mall of choice, standing next to that red metal bucket and ringing that bell. They have ever been dressed un-coolly; in place of the clunky, militaristic get-up they used to wear, the organization now favors an equally dorky, too-short red apron, which gives their volunteers the vague, unfortunate appearance of fast-food workers. But who cares. They are there no matter what. In the wind. In the rain. In the snow. When the temperature is 50 degrees and when the temperature is 15 degrees. It doesn’t matter what the weather is, their bell never stops ringing, it rings unceasingly, it rings steadfastly, it rings as earnestly and endlessly as the prayers of mankind rising to an indifferent heaven…It rings in defiance of irony, in defiance of coolness & hipness & self-indulgence. Is there any sound more ancient than that of a ringing bell? That Salvation Army bell is ringing in a sound and an experience from outside time; it’s ringing in reality, ringing out the tenets of our day to day lives and culture. Put money in that bucket and do it often. Because as you cross that snowy parking lot, braced against the wind, the bell rings and rings and rings, and for a split second, you wake up from your dream of self and catch a glimpse into the eternal heart of now. And if that’s not worth a dollar, I don’t know what is.