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Sunday, January 4, 2015

Toxic Faith

10 Reasons You Should Never Have A Religion


Written by Steve Pavlina on his site www.stevepavlina.com |
While consciously pursuing your spiritual development is commendable, joining an established religion such as Christianity, Islam, or Hinduism is one of the worst ways to go about it. In this article I’ll share 10 reasons why you must eventually abandon the baggage of organized religion if you wish to pursue conscious living in earnest.


1) Spirituality for dummies




























If you have the awareness level of a snail, and your thinking is mired in shame and guilt (with perhaps a twist of drug abuse or suicidal thinking), then subscribing to a religion can help you climb to a higher level of awareness. Your mindset, however, still remains incredibly dysfunctional; you’ve merely swapped one form of erroneous thinking for another.
For reasonably intelligent people who aren’t suffering from major issues with low self-esteem, religion is ridiculously consciousness-lowering. While some religious beliefs can be empowering, on the whole the decision to formally participate in a religion will merely burden your mind with a hefty load of false notions.
When you subscribe to a religion, you substitute nebulous group-think for focused, independent thought. Instead of learning to discern truth on your own, you’re told what to believe. This doesn’t accelerate your spiritual growth; on the contrary it puts the brakes on your continued conscious development. Religion is the off-switch of the human mind.
Your own intellect is a better instrument of spiritual growth than any religious teachings.

2) Loss of spiritual depth perception

One of the worst mistakes you can make in life is to attach your identity to any particular religion or philosophy, such as by saying “I am a Christian” or “I am a Buddhist.” This forces your mind into a fixed perspective, robbing you of spiritual depth perception and savagely curtailing your ability to perceive reality accurately. If that sounds like a good idea to you, you’ll probably want to gouge out one of your eyeballs too. Surely you’ll be better off with a single, fixed perspective instead of having to consider two separate image streams… unless of course you’ve become attached to stereo vision.
Religious “truths” are inherently rooted in a fixed perspective, but real truth is perspective-independent. When you substitute religious teachings for truth, you mistake shadows for light sources. Consequently, you doom yourself to stumble around in the dark, utterly confused. Clarity remains forever elusive, and the best answer you get is that life is one giant mystery. Religious mysteries, however, arise not from what is truly unknowable; they arise from the limitations of trying to understand reality from a fixed frame of reference.
A more intelligent approach is to consider reality through a variety of different perspectives without trying to force your perceptions into an artificial religious framework. If you wish to learn more about this approach, read Spiritual Depth Perception.

3) Engineered obedience training

Religions are authoritarian hierarchies designed to dominate your free will. They’re power structures that aim to convince you to give away your power for the benefit of those who enjoy dominating people. When you subscribe to a religion, you enroll in a mindless minion training program. Religions don’t market themselves as such, but this is essentially how they operate.
Religions are very effective at turning human beings into sheep. They’re among the most powerful instruments of social conditioning. They operate by eroding your trust in your own intellect, gradually convincing you to put your trust into some external entity, such as a deity, prominent figure, or great book. Of course these instruments are usually controlled by those who administrate the minion training program, but they don’t have to be. Simply by convincing you to give your power away to something outside yourself, religion will condition you to be weaker, more docile, and easier to control. Religions actively promote this weakening process as if it were beneficial, commonly branding it with the word faith. What they’re actually promoting is submission.
Religions strive to fill your head with so much nonsense that your only recourse is to bow your head in submission, often quite literally. Get used to spending a lot of time on your knees because acts of submission such as bowing and kneeling are frequently incorporated into religious practice. Canine obedience training uses similar tactics. Now say, “Yes, Master.”
Have you ever wondered why religious teachings are invariably mysterious, confusing, and internally incongruent? This is no accident by the way — it’s quite intentional.
By putting forth confusing and internally conflicting information, your logical mind (i.e. your neocortex) is overwhelmed. You try in vain to integrate such contradictory beliefs, but it can’t be done. The net effect is that your logical mind disengages because it can’t find a pattern of core truth beneath all the nonsense, so without the help of your neocortex, you devolve to a more primitive (i.e. limbic) mode of thinking. You’re taught that this faith-based approach is a more spiritual and conscious way to live, but in reality it’s precisely the opposite. Getting you to distrust your own cerebral cortex actually makes you dumber and easier to manipulate and control. Karl Marx was right when he said, “Religion is the opiate of the people.”
For example, the Old Testament and the New Testament in the Bible frequently contradict each other with various rules of conduct, yet both are quoted during mass. You aren’t meant to ever make sense of them since that would defeat the whole purpose.
If you want to talk to God, then communicate directly instead of using third-party intermediaries. Surely God has no need of an interpreter. Don’t fall into the trap of becoming a mindless minion. It’s a mistake to think that turning off your neocortex and practicing mindless “faith” will bring you closer to God.

4) Toilet-bowl time management

If you devote serious time to the practice of religion, it’s safe to say you practice toilet-bowl time management, flushing much of your precious life down the drain with little or nothing to show for it.
First, you’ll waste a lot of time filling your head with useless nonsense. This includes reading some of the worst fiction ever written. Then there are various rules, laws, and practices to learn..
Next, you can expect to waste even more time on repetitive ritual and ceremony, such as attending mass, learning prayers, and practicing unproductive meditations.
If I add up the time I attended mass and Sunday school, studied religion in school as if it were a serious subject, and memorized various prayers, I count thousands of hours of my life I’d love to have back. I did, however, learn some important lessons, many of which are being shared in this article.

5) Waste of money

In addition to being a serious waste of time, religious practice can also be a huge waste of money.
For starters when you donate to a major religion, you support its expansion, which means you’re facilitating the enslavement of your fellow humans.  If you feel the urge to donate money, give it to a real and honorable cause, not a fabricated one. Better yet, go outside and do something yourself that really helps people. If you can’t think of anything better, grab a can of paint and clean up some local graffiti.
Your religious donations fund freeloaders who mooch off society but who generally provide little or no value in return. Sure there are some religious people who perform valuable public services, but for the most part, that isn’t their bailiwick. These freeloaders typically operate tax-free, meaning they’re effectively subsidized by taxpayers. That’s a great racket if you’re on the receiving side… not so great if you’re funding it though.
Would you seriously consider this sort of structure a “good cause” worthy of your hard-earned cash?

6) Religions create separation

Religions frequently promote inbred social networks. You’re encouraged to spend more time with people who share the same belief system while disengaging from those with incompatible beliefs. Sometimes this is done subtly; other times it’s more obvious.
If you’re one of the saved, blessed, or otherwise enlightened individuals who stumbled upon the one true belief system, then supposedly everyone else remains in the dark. Certain religions are overtly intolerant of outsiders, but to one degree or another, all major religions cast non-subscribers in a negative light. This helps to discourage members from abandoning the religion while still enabling them to proselytize. The main idea is to maintain social structures that reward loyalty and punish freedom of thought.
This us-vs-them prejudice is totally incongruent with conscious living. It’s also downright moronic from a global perspective. But it remains a favored practice of those who pull the strings. When you’re taught to distrust other human beings, fear gets a foothold in your consciousness, and you become much easier to control.
When you join a religion, your fellow mind-slaves will help to keep you in line, socially rewarding your continued obedience while punishing your disloyalty. Why do they do this? It’s what they’ve been conditioned to do. Tell your religious friends that you’re abandoning their religion because you want to think for yourself for a while, and watch the sparks fly. Suddenly you’ve gone from best friend to evil demon. There’s no greater threat to religious people than to profess your desire to think for yourself.
There are better ways to enjoy a sense of community than joining a slavery club. Try making friends with conscious, free-thinking people for a change — people who are willing to connect with you regardless of how silly your beliefs are. You may find it intimidating at first, but it’s quite refreshing once you get used to it.

7) Idiocy or hypocrisy – pick one

When you subscribe to an established religion, you have only two options. You can become an idiot, or you can become a hypocrite. If you’ve already chosen the former, I’ll explain why, and I’ll use small words so that you’re sure to understand.
First, there’s the idiocy route. You can willingly swallow all of the contrived, man-made drivel that’s fed to you. Accept that the earth is only 10,000 years old. Learn about various deities and such. Put your trust in someone who thinks they know what they’re talking about.
You’ll be saved, enlightened, and greeted with tremendous fanfare when you die… unless of course all the stuff you were taught turns out not to be true. Nah… if the guy in the robe says it’s true, it must be true. Ya gotta have faith, right?
Next, we have the hypocrisy option. In this case your neocortex is strong enough to identify various bits of utter nonsense in the religious teachings that others are trying to ram down your throat. You have a working B.S. detector, but it’s slightly damaged. You’re smart enough to realize that earth is probably a lot older than 10,000 years and that pre-marital (or non-marital) sex is a lot of fun, but some B.S. still gets through.   You know homosexuality should not be a criminal offense and that it occurs in nature all the time.  You don’t swallow all the bull, but you still identify yourself as a follower of a particular religion, most likely because you were raised in it and never actually chose it to begin with.
To you it’s just a casual pursuit. You’re certainly not a die-hard fundamentalist, but you figure that if you drink the wine and chew the wafer now and then, it’s good enough to get you a free ride into a half-decent afterlife. You belong to the pro-God club.
In this case you become an apologist for your own religion. You don’t want to be identified with the extreme fanatics, nor do you want to be associated with the non-believers. You figure you can straddle both sides. On earth you’ll basically live as a non-practitioner (or a very sloppy and inconsistent practitioner), but when you eventually die, you’ve still got the membership card to show God.
Do you realize how deluded that is?

8) Inherited falsehood

What if you were born into a different culture? Would you have been conscious enough to find your way back to your current belief system? Or are your current beliefs merely a product of your environment and not the result of conscious choice?
Many religious teachers (i.e. priests, rabbis, ministers, etc.) are just brainwashed slaves themselves. They don’t have any real authority and aren’t even aware of the agenda being set by their superiors. This makes them better minions because they actually believe the B.S. they’re spouting and don’t know the truth behind it. A priest, a rabbi, and a minister walk into a bar, but that’s as far as they get. They may interact with the bartender, but they never get to know the guy who owns the bar. They suffer from inherited falsehood just like everyone else.
Is your religion based on the inspired word of God? No more than this article. Just because someone says their text is divinely inspired doesn’t mean it is. Anyone can claim divine inspiration.
Even the central figures in major religions didn’t follow the religions that were spawned in their names. If they didn’t swallow the prevailing “wisdom” about gods and spiritual leaders and such, why should you? If you want to be more like the people you worship, then follow their lead by striking out on your own.

9) Compassion in chains

Religious rules and laws invariably hamper the development of conscience. This causes all sorts of problems like pointless violence and warfare. Those who preach nonviolence as a rule or law tend to be the most violent of all.
When you externalize compassion into a set of rules and laws, what you’re left with isn’t compassion at all. True compassion is a matter of conscious choice, and that requires the absence of force-backed rules and laws.
Historically speaking, religious people love to fight each other. Instead of unconditional love, they practice conditional loyalty.  If you disagree with them, you’re a target… either for conversion or destruction (both of which are really the same thing).
If you value the ideal of unconditional love, you won’t find it in the practice of religion. Real compassion doesn’t arise from believing in God, from practicing various rituals, or from studying the concept of karma. Compassion can only result from conscious choice, and this requires the freedom to choose without the threat of punishment or the promise of reward. If you’re obedient to your faith, it’s a safe bet that compassion is absent from your life.

10) Faith is fear

Religion is the systematic marketing of fear.
That’s the kind of nonsense religion pushes on people. They train you to turn your back on courage, strength, and conscious living. This is stupidity, not divinity.
Religion will teach you to fear being different, to fear standing up for yourself, and to fear being an independent thinker. It will erode your self-trust by explaining why you’re unable to successfully manage life on your own terms: You are unworthy. You’re a sinner. You’re unclean. You belong to a lesser caste. You are not enlightened. Of course the solution is always the same — submit to the will of an external authority. Believe that you’re inadequate. Give away your power. Follow their rules and procedures. Live in fear for the rest of your life, and hope it will all turn out okay in the end.
When you practice faith instead of conscious living, you live under a cloak of fear. Eventually that cloak becomes so habitual you forget it’s even there. It’s very sad when you reach the point where you can’t even remember what it feels like to wield creative freedom over your own life, independent of what you’ve been conditioned to believe.
Stop trying to comfort yourself by swallowing religious rubbish. If you really need something to believe in, then believe in your own potential. Put your trust in your own intellect. Stop giving away your power.
Dump the safety-in-numbers silliness. Just because a lot of people believe stupid stuff doesn’t mean it isn’t stupid. It just means that stupidity is popular on this planet. When people are in a state of fear, they’ll swallow just about anything to comfort themselves.
Source: Written by Steve Pavlina on his site www.stevepavlina.com
What are your thoughts on this? Is all religion somewhat toxic to spiritual growth?  Is there a middle ground?
“Religion is the belief in someone else’s experience.  Spirituality is having your own experience.”
- See more at: http://www.spiritscienceandmetaphysics.com/10-reasons-you-should-never-have-a-religion/#sthash.mihftvNa.dpuf

Thursday, December 25, 2014

2014 Xmas Poem



Christmas 2014
By Nate Bender

The passing years add poignancy to evolving benchmarks,
Notable of which is this years’ Christmas Holiday mark.
Gratitude runs through our very veins,
Acknowledging the myriad blessings we hold dear:
Our health;
Our growing spiritual foundations;
Our connective community of friends;
Our enduring and supportive family ties, devoid of pretense;
Our ever-present quest for truth and understanding;
Our intimate, life-enriching exchange of energy (snuggling)!
The foundation of this joyful time is seated in the love we share,
And the love we carry into the larger world community.
Here’s to continuing our celebrations each and every day,
For the rest of our lives, my dear wife and soul mate…

Merry Christmas and wishing you a Happy, enriching New Year!

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Sid Salter Xmas post

Christmas no longer about presents; presences matter


I remember so well the unbearable anticipation of Christmas Eve with my sisters Sharon and Sheila in the little teacher’s home across from the Beulah-Hubbard school in rural Newton County a half-century
 ago. Sheila, my twin, shared my suffering. Sharon, who was older and wiser, was able to put up a more mature front.

But we all lay awake late into the night, listening for sleigh bells, reindeer hooves and wondering how Santa actually got into a house that didn’t have a chimney.

The rituals were observed.
 We helped decorate the cedar tree that our father cut in the woods and brought home. Most of the decorations were homemade and the lights were colorful, large and hot.
Momma carefully selected a plate and glass for us to leave cookies and milk for Santa.

There were photos made of the children by the tree in our pajamas. We sang Christmas carols loudly, and engaged in other diversions that Momma created to help
 us pass the time. My father would make the announcement that it was time to go to bed — and always intoned that if we didn’t hurry up and get to sleep that Santa might not come because he would pass our house and find us awake.

So off to bed we went. I fought against sleep — wanting so badly to hear or see something, anything, that would reward my faith in Santa. But I never could stay awake long enough.

Once, when I was 6, I could have sworn I heard something large and foreign on the roof — but the next morning there was no evidence of that.

Some hours later, usually about 4 a.m., I would awaken, run to awaken my sisters, then together we’d inspect what Santa had left behind. My parents would join us after Momma put on a pot of coffee.

Our parents had a rule that presents weren’t opened in our home until the scriptures sharing the story of the birth of Christ were read aloud
 by one of us. I think whatever skills I later had in broadcast journalism were born in my ability to speed-read the first 20 verses of the second chapter of the Book of Luke without discernible errors.

When the carnage of torn paper and bent ribbons was over, there was a big breakfast and then off to our grandparents’ home to spend time with aunts, uncles and cousins.

The feast, and it was a feast, would be enjoyed down to Mamaw Salter’s
last custard pie. I remember it all — and in my heart of hearts, I miss those days in ways I can’t readily describe.

Mom and Dad, all my grandparents, most of my aunts and uncles and some of my cousins are all gone now. My wife
 and I are now the grandparents and the destination of four beautiful grandchildren who ponder the wonder of Santa Claus and greater joys of Christmas. They so enjoy being together.

My older sister and I will have some time together with our grown children. Our sister Sheila left our circle in 2006 and her absence has forever changed Christmas for me. But her daughters will be with me and what a gift that will be.

I remember watching my father open his presents back in the 1960s. Another bottle of Old Spice, another necktie, another white dress shirt. He feigned surprise and delight, but there was a touch of boredom in his manner. He was more concerned with watching us open
 our presents and asked us earnestly if we were happy.

We were — which I think was his greatest gift on Christmas. When he died, I remember finding in his closet enough bottles of Old Spice to float a battleship and boxes of unworn shirts and ties.

All that makes sense to me now, as I have reached the age that it’s no longer the presents that matter on Christmas, but the presence of loved ones young and old mean all the world to me.

Republican or Democrat, liberal or conservative, I wish you peace and joy during this season. May your Christmas presences be everything you want and need.


Sid Salter is a syndicated columnist. Contact him at .

Thursday, December 11, 2014

2014 Recap

Merry Christmas from Nate
I declare the year to be a winner! 2015 is forming in front of me, revealing an
inviting glow to journey forward. Never have I ever imagined being so happy and
enriched at this stage of my existence!
I’m blessed to have an expanding circle of friends, with the most nurturing ones
being a collection of my Osher Life Long Learning Institute writers group, now
numbering 17 stalwarts. We collaborated in producing an anthology of short stories
and poems, marking my second participation in such a creation. When asked
what I do I typically respond, “I’m a writer!” Sometimes people are even impressed,
and it’s a nice departure from, “I’m retired!”
Our travels have taken us to South Florida, the Bahamas, Washington D.C., Boise Idaho, Salt Lake City, Utah, Iowa
and Birmingham, Alabama.
A major undertaking has involved being assessed for a cochlear implant,
first at the Biloxi VA, followed by the Birmingham VA, where implants
are performed by the VA. Having learned that Medicare covers such a
surgery, I’m now being prepped for the procedure in Jackson, as its proximity
is more inviting and doable. All of this is generating heighten level
of anticipation!
Bottom line, I’m a blessed man with an inordinately compatible and
nourishing spouse with whom to gracefully grow into my elder years!
Merry Christmas from Sandra
What more can I say? I confirm all the blessings Nate listed. Plus—I continue
to grow vegetables and have begun to teach organic gardening. I
am teaching a seminar this spring about how to be a healthy, vital centenarian.
No, I don’t have direct experience, but I’ve read about others who do. We have rich relationships with our children
and grandchildren. We have joined a small Unitarian Universalist church that inspires us. And yes, I am blessed
beyond measure to be growing old with Nate.
Lucy, 2, is melting Grandpa’s heart.
With beauty and grace, Ariana turned 40. Our grandson,
Sachin, wows us with his first grade accomplishments.
Grandma and August, 6, play nicely together.
Samantha, 17, and Max, 16,
will be in college in a blink of an eye.

A memorable experience this October was our trip to Germany to learn more about Nate’s family. His grandfathers and
grandmothers came to America in the 1800’s. We contacted our friends, Hans Jorg and Claudia Suss and asked them for
contacts in the tiny village of Rodheim that isn’t on the map. We were met by Sigurd, an English teacher, translator, and
guide; Helmut, the museum curator and specialist on the history of the area; Ekke, another English teacher, and guide;
and Gerhard, Nate’s German cousin. These people guided us through the region for several days teaching us history and
culture. We visited the church that was built Catholic in the 1100’s and transformed from Catholic to Lutheran during
the Reformation. Nate’s ancestors were baptized and attended there. From there we went to Wurzburg to visit our
friends, Hans Jorg and Claudia to see this classic German city and wine villages at the height of Octoberfest. We felt a
heartwarming connection with our German friends.
Our best wishes for peace on earth and a healthy and happy year ahead.
Love from Sandra and Nate


Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Mother's Funeral Note

Thank you note to my Mother (upon her passing)


I’ve looked for you
in everyone I’ve met.
Here and there I found a few
who had your faithfulness,
your warmth,
your loyalty,
integrity and joy.
These few became my friends.

You made a difference
with your courageous and gentle ways.
Thank you for the woman you were,
for the woman you were
has colored all my days.


Your son, Nathan Bender

Friday, November 28, 2014

Chardin quote



“There is almost a sensual longing for communion with others who have a large vision. 

The immense fulfillment of the friendship between those engaged in furthering the

evolution of consciousness has a quality impossible to describe.” 

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Christmas at Aunt Ida’s by Dick Feagler


With a nod by Dick Feagler to the issues of today, we republish his Christmas column, which first appeared in The Plain Dealer in 1993.

On Christmas, when I was a kid, we all went over to my Aunt Ida's house -- an old house in the old neighborhood.
Just what did you think I was going to talk about today? The little town of Bethlehem with its sniper towers? The unholy mother Britney? The lack of one wise man, let alone three?
It's Christmastime, my friends. Let's rest our weary brains. Let's turn our backs on earthbound stars and People magazine celebrities and media personalities. Let us visit some people whose names get into the newspaper only when they die. And even then, just in the tiny type of the death notices.
Let's go to my Aunt Ida's house. Come on. It won't take long. You'll be home in time for the 11 o'clock news, I promise you.
The house wasn't far from the steel mills, and the fallout from the mills made the dirt in Aunt Ida's back yard black and rich. When the wind was wrong, the air in the neighborhood smelled like a chem lab. Breathing it might have been bad, but nobody knew that then. By the way, my Aunt Ida had great luck with flowers.
On Christmas, we'd all be there. The old folks, the young folks and the kids. The young folks were the young men and their wives still recovering from the great upheaval of World War II. The old folks could remember World War I.
The kids, like me, weren't old enough to remember much. We were busy collecting memories, and this is one of them.
There was no TV. The only one among us who had a TV was my cousin Stanley, who sold them. He hasn't yet sold one to any of the rest of the family, but he keeps trying. He knows it's only a matter of time. For, what isn't?
"I have a 10-inch screen," he tells us, a cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth, a tall brown beer bottle at his elbow. He's sitting at the dining room table with the rest of the young men, playing pinochle. You'll notice that they have all, just for a little while, assumed the present tense. A Christmas present tense.
"They are never going to be able to make a screen bigger than 10 inches that will give you a decent picture," Cousin Stanley lectures. "According to the laws of electronics, 10 inches is as big as you can go."
The Army Air Corps gave Cousin Stanley a job fixing radios. That's where he got his electronic knowledge. So my Uncle Ziggy, who flushed out snipers on Okinawa, and my Cousin Melvin, who knocked out tanks in Italy, listen to Stanley with respect. Stanley -- the trumpeter of the dawn of the age of television.
By now, the tiny type has recorded Stanley's name. And Ziggy's. Melvin's, too. And my Aunt Ida's. Time killed them. The tanks couldn't do it and the snipers couldn't do it. But Time? It does it every time.
Time erased my cousin Billy's name. He crossed the Rhine River in the bloody, final act of his war. He lived through obscene and notorious battlefields. He died at 85 cutting wood in his front yard in Parma.
Time is the inevitable eraser, but it does not erase cleanly. If you look hard enough, you can still see traces of them all, faintly. And if you look even harder -- why they are right here!
The women are gathered in the living room, talking about babies and recipes and operations. Nylon stockings that have come back again, so you can throw the leg makeup away. Electric stoves that practically cook your meal for you. Jobs they can quit now -- are expected to quit now -- because the men have come back from the war.
Their woman talk would make a feminist despair. They talk of "female trouble" and permanent waves. And the Christmas crowds at Halle's and Taylor's and Bailey's. And the big Sterling-Lindner tree that looked even a little bigger this year. And Hough bake shop cookies. And trolley cars that turn on Public Square, showering the safety zones with a blizzard of sparks.
Jay Leno is not here. I told you, there is no television set, except the one Stanley is describing -- sketching it in the air with the smoke from his cigar. Nobody has bothered to turn the radio on. There is just talk -- endless, trivial, sometimes mysterious. Sometimes, if a kid comes into the room, the talk suddenly stops. "Ix-nay," one of the aunts will say. "Little pitchers have big ears." There are things, in this long-ago time, that a kid is not supposed to know about. If, for some unfathomable reason, anybody said the word "condom," it would take the room an hour to recover its equilibrium.
Where are the kids? Would you mind, my friend, if I went in search of myself? It won't take long. I know just where to look.
I am with my cousins in the unheated bedroom at the back of the old house. We are burrowing under the piles of coats that have been dumped on the bed. Moutons, mostly, with a few Persian lambs, for animals do not yet have rights. Just a glimpse of myself is all I want. I don't want to look too hard. Because for me, this trip is a wistful mirror.
The bedroom door opens and Aunt Ida is standing in a rectangle of light.
"You kids go into the living room now," she says. "Santa Claus is coming soon."
We go. And as soon as we leave, Aunt Ida opens a bureau drawer, reaches under some flannel sheets and pulls out a moth-eaten Santa Claus suit and a scraggly beard. The pants of this suit have long since disintegrated. So my Aunt Ida hikes up her dress and yanks on a pair of my uncle's blue serge pants. Over these she tugs galoshes.
She takes a pillow from the bed and plucks off the pillowcase. She stuffs the pillow under the Santa jacket to give herself a tummy. She fills the pillowcase with toys from Woolworth's, Kresge's and Grant's. She puts on the beard, the cap. She tiptoes out into the hall. Then out the back door and into the night -- air so cold it makes her nose sting, sky lit with a faint glow from the mills.
Around the house she goes and up on the side porch. She pauses and peeks in the window.
She sees what we see now. Me at 7. My young, handsome father and pretty mother.
(Death took my mother gently, during a nap. My father followed her the next year. But memory brings them back now, and makes them young again.)
On the frosty porch, my Aunt Ida sees us all -- the old folks, the young folks and the kids. Moving, though we can't feel the current, down a river of time.
We don't see her. She is on the other side of the dark windowpane. The adults know she's out there. We kids aren't sure. It's a moment of great suspense for us. We are not yet old enough to understand that life is fairly predictable. That you can usually tell what will happen next. That there are only a handful of plots, endlessly repeated.
I promised I'd get you back. But let me take a last look into that room. Almost all of the people we see there are gone now. But they haven't gone far, and on Christmas they are very close. They are just the other side of the windowpane.

We can't see them. But we feel them there, those simple people who loved us and took care of us. They left us blessings we too rarely count. And, if we let them, they come back at Christmas with gifts of everlasting life.