Merry Xmas

MERRY XMAS TO EVERYONE FROM MY FAMILY TO YOUR FAMILY. 

The Night before Xmas

Clement Clarke Moore (1779 - 1863) wrote the poem Twas the night before Christmas also called “A Visit from St. Nicholas" in 1822. It is now the tradition in many families to read the poem every Christmas Eve.

Twas the Night before Christmas Poem

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature 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 sugar-plums danced in their heads.

And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled our brains 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 mid-day to objects below.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.

With a little old driver, 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, on Donner and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, 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 fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler, 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 pipe 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 I 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 chimney 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!"

The poem 'Twas the night before Christmas' has redefined our image of Christmas and Santa Claus. Prior to the creation of the story of 'Twas the night before Christmas' St. Nicholas, the patron saint of children, had never been associated with a sleigh or reindeers!

Clement Moore, the author of the poem Twas the night before Christmas, was a reticent man and it is believed that a family friend, Miss H. Butler, sent a copy of the poem to the New York Sentinel who published the poem. The condition of publication was that the author of Twas the night before Christmas was to remain anonymous. 

The first publication date was 23rd December 1823 and it was an immediate success. It was not until 1844 that Clement Clarke Moore claimed ownership when the work was included in a book of his poetry.

What are you playing at right now?

 Happy Friday! You made it through another work-week! Xmas is on Sunday and the season of joy is here.

Remember the opening of The Flinstones? The foreman looked at his watch and pulled the tail of a bird who acted as the pre-historic "quitting time whistle". Then Fred would slide gleefully down the tail of his dinosaur and jump into his car while yelling "Yabba Dabba Doo!,"(I know you want to sing the song - here, let me save you the trouble of looking it up. Click here to hear the song)

Well, if you don't live in Bedrock City and if you're like most people, "work" doesn't really end at quitting time on Friday. For a lot of people, it never really ends. We're workaholics, even in retirement we have trouble finding time and we still work, but we may not get paid.

So today, right now, two days before Xmas, I want you to think about your life for a moment. Not your job, your LIFE. Are you thinking about it? Good! Now I have two questions for you....

1. What are you working on right now?

• Maybe you're working on becoming more forgiving and having more peace.
• Maybe you're working on improving your health and fitness.
• Maybe you're working on increasing your finances
• Maybe you're working on deepening your relationships.

I want you to change "working to" to "playing at" and see what that does for your energy levels. Think about this time of year and when you were younger, we didn’t work, we played. So the question is:

2. What are you playing at right now? Do you

• Play at becoming more forgiving and having more peace.
• Play at improving your health and fitness.
• Play at increasing your finances
• Play at deepening your relationships.

What else would you like to play at?

What else would be possible in your life if you consciously embodied the energy of "play" in more of your daily activities (especially the important ones)?

Let's make a new year resolution to find out, shall we?

Winter arrives Dec 22,

This is the first day of winter, fall has finally yielded to winter.  

Do you remember the joy of the first frost, the first snow, the magic of sledding; making snow angels in the backyard? 

Or as many of us have, have you equated winter with shoveling snow, poor driving, feeling locked in because of the storm?

Winter is a magical time for children, maybe it is time to make it a magical time for you again?

I love winter, 
Frost grabs the window
Refusing to yield to the warmth 
Of the morning sun. 
Slowly, very slowly, 
the sun wins the battle,
Frost retreats, 
slowly tracing patterns 
across the pane
while drops of water cry 
as they fall to the ground 
Frozen in time
The battle won, 
frost is done 
mountains fill the scene, 
Trees sway white with snow 
the wind shakes the world below
A child appears, 
wrapped from head to toe,
Laughing in delight, 
she catches snow flakes
drifting from the tree
Eyes bright, face flushed, 
winter is here, 
can Santa be far behind?