The Druid in me took note that this happened on or about the Winter Solstice and hearkened to the ancient Celtic ritual of cutting mistletoe from the sacred oak at this time of year to bolster the chances of prosperity and, ahem, good lovin' in the days ahead. A gift from the gods? You bet.
The Episcopalian in me thought about the birth of the Christ child and how is it that a Druid symbol got entwined with Christmas anyway?
The Jewish guy in me (I lived on a kibbutz, my brother is Jewish, I'm an honorary Jew) wondered if maybe I couldn't make a little extra money selling mistletoe door to door, perhaps even corner the worldwide mistletoe market.
The Buddhist in me contemplated all of the above deeply but then let go and didn't pass judgement one way or the other.
The dogs, well, you know what the dogs wanted to do with it. Or on it. After all, this was their morning walk.
So the Sybarite in me quickly picked it up and took it home and hung it above a doorway with hopes of kissing all the lovely ladies, but mostly my wife, who pass below.
Whatever your flavor, here's to your holidays.
3 comments:
Bob -- This made my holidays. Thanks...eat more mistletoe.
The American Sufi in me loves the ecumenical in your post of the 22nd
Anon: And the Sufi in me knows that there are 99 names for God (and then some) and that we're all connected.
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