A Project for the Holidays

Do you remember the snow monster in Christmas movies – the one that Santa was able to change from bad to good with a gift? I watched that movie last night with my children, and it made me think of how easy it is to reach out to others.

Among the people we know, there is always at least one snow monster. I, for one, have met a few; they put on a very strong front to intimidate others because they have been previously hurt, and feel the need to wear a spiked armor for protection. Deep down, they are sensitive and caring, vulnerable and afraid, but on the surface they come through as an ice storm, ready to attack the opponent with icy daggers.

In the movie, when Santa gives him the gift, the snow monster is surprised, and is unsure of what he should do. All he’s ever received, up to this point, are fear and anger – the only possible responses to his threatening, cold and heartless behavior. Suddenly, despite his tough appearance, someone is offering him a gift. The monster is at a loss; his chest deflates, his eyes open wider, and he humbly asks Santa what he should do from then on, since he has never learned to be good. His rough, scary appearance is gone, and is replaced by a gentle demeanor.

So, should we follow Santa’s example and give gifts to mean people? Maybe we should. They can be material gifts - if one feels so inclined - but what will truly “thaw” the snow monsters are things money can’t buy: a hug, a kind word, a bit of human warmth. They expect swords and arrows; an offer of unconditional love will slice through the rough peel and reach the soft core.

The response is quite amazing. At first, they might even get uglier, as the sweet words will burn a hole in the icy crust, and the “monsters” will feel suddenly vulnerable. They might remain speechless, as they have never prepared answers for a positive exchange, but at that point, the magic has begun; that one single, tiny seed of love will burrow in their hearts and grow, and may be the catalyst for incredible changes ahead.

We can make this a project for the holidays – that of thawing as many snow monsters as we can, and give them the chance to experience a Christmas miracle, maybe for the first time in their lives. As my grandmother once said: “The mightier and uglier they appear, the more they need to be loved. If you give out gifts, would you not want to hand them out to the real needy? Love is no different.”

The Wind and The Mountain

“No matter how the wind howls, the mountain does not move” ~Chinese proverb

If one can imagine a mountain during a storm, it is easy to visualize trees being swept from side to side, little animals scurrying around looking for shelter, and even an occasional bolt of lighting as it mercilessly hits an unfortunate tree; the wind howls fiercely, quickly impregnating the forest with the echo of its inconsolable cry.

For a few terrifying moments, which seem to have no apparent end on sight, the air itself is swollen with fear and apprehension, and every creature’s heart beats faster at the rhythm of a primal song, haunting and unknown.

When the storm lets down, and the wind dies out, damage is widespread - Some trees are down; leaves are everywhere; the valley is flooded by rainwater. Yet, aside from superficial damage, the mountain hasn’t moved.

When we are surprised by a life storm, we are hardly ever prepared. As the winds of change blow through our relationships, or through any of the sanctuaries of our self-security, fear washes over us, and we hope for the best while expecting the worst.

Regardless of how strong the storm is – and how severe the superficial damage to our lives may appear – our inner core remains untainted. As long as we choose to identify our solidity with the damage we observe in our superficial surroundings, we are under the false illusion that our world is falling apart, when all that is coming undone is only the part of our lives which needs to be cleansed and renewed. Under the surface, where the true foundation of our being resides, we remain untouched. Our inner ground is cleansed and enriched by the storm, and will support future growth sprouted by seeds blown in our direction, fed by the decomposing debris.

The mountain does not move; it never did and never will, no matter how hard the wind can ever dream to blow.

One More Step - Challenging Our Limitations

"Few men during their lifetime come anywhere near exhausting the resources dwelling within them. There are deep wells of strength that are never used." Richard E. Byrd


When we were kids and complained about being exhausted, my father always told my sister and I the story of a friend of his; this lady – Marina was her name – was a small lady, maybe about 5’2” and weighing only around 100 pounds. Marina had a little boy, Francesco, who was curious just like little boys should be but whose nickname really should have been Menace – Francesco could not function if he didn’t get himself in danger at least once a day.

One day, Francesco got into more danger than it was daily allowed, and after sneaking out into a shop in his backyard his grandfather used to repair antique furniture, he pulled a very heavy dresser over himself. Francesco screamed as he fell back, and thankfully his mother heard him. When Marina saw what had happened, she had no time to lose; she knew her husband and father were not around, and it would have taken too long to summon help – it was time to take matters into her own hands.

Without even thinking, she pulled the dresser up and away from her son, who was soon after taken to the hospital and diagnosed with three broken ribs and a fractured pelvis. When Marina told her family and the emergency personnel what happened, and how she had moved the dresser with her bare hands, everyone was skeptical; the dresser – her father confirmed – weighed approximately two and a half times her body weight.

It is not uncommon to hear of people performing incredible feats while in the grips of fear or anger. Indeed, the two are powerful forces, and it is understandable that they would drive someone to reach beyond their point of tolerance. What is quite interesting, though, is the fact that many of the things we think we cannot do are in fact manageable if we can shift our focus from our set limitations to the untapped well of our potential.

The past few years, I have set a small challenge with myself – whenever I feel I have reached capacity, I stop and truly analyze how I feel in that moment. Most of the time, we convince ourselves that we have reached the maximum of what we can do way before we are really spent. As a car’s gas gauge lights up several miles before a tank is truly empty, so do our tolerance triggers. No matter how exhausted we are – or how hopeless we feel – there is always a small reservoir we can tap into to temporarily regenerate and make it a few more steps. While I was in labor with my children, I almost gave up on refusing pain medication during the deliveries. I tried to focus on the fact that nobody had ever died of pain, and if I held off, my babies would be healthy and alert; that thought alone was a shot of resolve and I made it through the last few excruciating hours.

In many cases, wanting to give up is only normal; following through with it is no different than abandoning the car in the middle of the highway, and walking off while we still had enough fuel to make it to the next gas station.