Saturday, December 21, 2019

Underneath They Still Are Only Trees

It's December 21st. Solstice for some, Yule for others, frantic shopping day for some people. Some of us are getting ready for Christmas stuff in various guises, other people are getting ready for Hanukkah...this time of year has a lot of celebrating in it.

As a Baha'i, I actually don't have any holidays of my own this time of year. I celebrate Christmas with my family and friends, but the next "big thing" for me and other Bahai's isn't until Ayyam-i-Ha in February. The next actual Holy Day is Naw Ruz, which is all the way away in March. I love so many Christmas traditions, though. People make extra efforts to see each other, we all have foods that we only seem to get to around this time of year, I get to spoil people I like (although I am still more prone to "hey I thought of you so here's a cool thing I found" style gifting, more than anything)...it's good stuff.

But right now, I find myself reflecting less on Christmas itself, and more on what sort of things it has in it. What do traditions look like? What things do I like about it? What could I do without? What makes it special?

You see, this is the first year I've been a Baha'i. So a lot of this year has been me learning a lot about what general stuff happens in a Baha'i life - what do holy days look like? Some are somber and reflective, some are full of joy and delight. What does Nineteen Day Feast look like? What does devotional life in my community look like?

I've learned a LOT. I've learned my community is amazing and caring and full of life and joy. I've made friends that I feel like I've known my whole life, and I've learned how to find my feet and my space and my path of service. But a lot of it has been me learning what things are, and now that I know what Ridvan is and what Naw Ruz is and what the fast looks like...now I get to figure out what sort of traditions I might like to build for myself around them.

Maybe I want to borrow some stuff I already know. Ayyam-i-Ha is about generosity and charity, so I can borrow some of Christmas's traditions there. I can find ways to share of my time and energy and love. Ridvan is about delight and change and renewal - I can borrow a lot of Christmas's childlike joy for that. Plus, gatherings usually mean food, so I can pull out my mom's shortbread recipe, and make speculaas cookies, and all the other things I love to make for holidays.

And maybe I'll figure out new things I like. Friends have told me about origami birds and toy camels and trees and dinners they hold and songs they sing and I don't know if I want to do any of that, but I know some of it sounds pretty fun. I'm going to get to make whole new traditions - some will draw on my past, some will be from my present, and some might be completely brand new things. Like the Twin Holy Birthdays are always going to mean cake and bright happy things, because to me, that's what birthdays need.

The fun part is? There's not really rules about any of this. In fact, we're told often to avoid strict rituals and tradtions (beyond things like the obligatory prayers, and so on). We're told that this is supposed to be for the whole world, and we value unity in diversity so much, that we don't want to tell people how they're supposed to do this stuff. Find ways to celebrate that suit you, your community, your family, all of that. If it doesn't feel good or right or proper, it's okay to let it go. And I like that. I like that I'm going to find paths through these things that fit me and the people around me and the people I care about. It's going to be a series of adventures, and they might not always be the same. It's gonna be a good ride, I think.



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