Adults and Kids on a Snowy Afternoon

Originally Posted on the Common Threads Blog,
Centre Daily Times, Dec 6, 2007

Our first snowstorm of 2007, and I gave myself a few extra minutes as I drove to pick up my daughter from school.

I had to drive slower than usual, as I navigated the already parked cars, the ones pulling out, and the others pulling in.

As I stepped out of the car, and crossed the street, I was only vaguely aware of the beauty of the white, snow covered trees, grass and buildings.

I did sense the refreshing cold air, but my adult mind was a little busy figuring out all that I had to do later in the day – the longer times for each errand, as I had to forgo the back roads which would not be ploughed yet, and other logistics.
But slowly, as I waited for school to be over, the whiteness seemed to spread some calm over me.

And then the kids rushed out, or did they just spill out of the school in their enthusiasm?

They seemed happier than usual, or was it my imagination?

My daughter's first question to me of “Can I go sledding today?” was probably being replicated in other parent child reunions, as the kids dreamed up many other possibilities in the magical, cold snow..

They slowed me down, with their happiness…

And got me to notice the beauty, and the magic of the first snowfall.

They got me to be thankful, that the snow was still arriving, fairly on schedule, even with all that global warming.

And left me cognizant of doing my part in ensuring that it would still arrive next year, and the year after, and for many years to come.

I imagine it is the same with adults everywhere - sometimes, we miss the beauty of the first rains, or of a beautiful summer day, as we consider the practical implications of "weather," on our daily routines.

And it often takes kids to show us other possibilities, and awaken deeper feelings of gratitude, and of course, more responsibility to make it all endure.

A Festival of Lights

Originally Posted on the Common Threads Blog
Centre Daily Times, Nov 12, 2007

This past week, my husband, daughter and I celebrated Deepavali (also known as Diwali) – the Festival of Lights.

For most of the 900 million Hindus around the world, and for 2 million Hindu Americans, Deepavali is a major festival, spread out over five days, and celebrated with special prayers and rituals, lights, decorations, fireworks and of course food.

It is also a day of significance for around 4 million Jains the world over - as the day on which their founder, Mahavira, attained salvation. It is also a day of importance for around 23 million Sikhs the world over, as the day when one of their religious leaders, or Gurus, attained freedom from captivity.

Deepavali, which gets its name from the Sanskrit Deepa, meaning light, and Avali, meaning row, celebrates the victory of Good over Evil, which is symbolized by bringing light into darkness. The word is today also shortened to Diwali in many parts of India.

In Mumbai (Bombay) where I grew up, schools were closed for about 10–14 days. Adults got a day or two off work. Deepavali day at our house started with a ritual bath in the morning before sunrise, with special oil massages before the bath. This was followed by the bursting of fireworks, and a day of fun and festivity. Rows of clay lamps were lit on our window sills and doorways, and neighbors, friends, and family exchanged homemade sweets and snacks with each other.

In State College, we celebrated the holiday this year by lighting lamps at home, preparing special food on one day, bursting fireworks after dinner with friends on another day, and then celebrating on a third day, with an evening of performances and dinner, organized by the Hindu Students Council on Campus.

The celebrations put together by the Hindu Student Council, a Penn State Student group, were especially touching to the heart. The event provided a common space for those celebrating the festival, in the midst of a larger community, whose calendar and rhthyms of life, do not include Diwali.

The diverse performances - which included a skit, dances, chanting of prayers, and vocal and instrumental music - gave both the performers and the audience an opportunity to pause and create a special memory, while commemorating their own cultural and religious traditions.

And it also provided a wonderful opportunity to share these traditions with those who were of different ethnic or religious origins. And there are surely few ways better than sharing music, dance and food - as first steps for building bridges between people in an atmosphere of respect and celebration.

The Seven Wonders of Centre County

Originally Posted on the Common Threads Blog
Centre Daily Times, Oct 10, 2007

I like this idea of the CDT poll to find the Seven Wonders of Centre County.

An interesting exercise, to look at the place we call home, from a fresh and positive perspective. A home, which is so familiar to us, that we may take it for granted. And may not appreciate what it has to offer, amidst a search for novel and exciting things.

I remember a moment from a long time ago, when my husband and I had spent a week in San Francisco - enjoying time with family and friends in San Francisco and Yosemite, and the freedom from our daily grind.

How could our life in State College, with its chores and routines, ever compete with that experience?

But the morning after we got back, a beautiful, peaceful scene of the sun rising above corn fields, with mountains in the distance greeted us.

If we had been visitors in San Francisco, we would have stopped to click some photographs, and savored and enjoyed the moment. But on our way to work, as part of our daily routine, it simply became the backdrop for our life.

When guests visit us in State College, my daughter asks to take them to the Creamery and the Nittany Lion statue, to walk around campus, and to spend some time in front of Old Main – all part of her Seven Wonders. We go to Penn’s Cave, or the Arts Fest – and any other places or experiences that catch the visitors’ fancy. Some like to hike, others prefer a visit to the library, or a stroll downtown.

A couple of years ago, my daughter came up with the idea that we should spend a day in State College, pretending to be visitors. We had a great time that Saturday – it felt like we had discovered a magical, peaceful town, which we had the free time to explore. We visited all her Seven Wonders and more… and enjoyed every minute.

I cherish that day - it reminds me of the beauty in our daily lives and landscapes, if we have the time and attitude to appreciate it.

A sentiment verbalized well by Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore, when he wrote in a poem – that he had travelled all around the world, spending time and money in search of beauty. And finally realized that all the time that he had been wandering the earth, he had missed seeing the splendor that lay just outside his house – the dewdrop glistening on a blade of grass.

Perhaps the seven wonders contest will help us seek and admire our dewdrops and our blades of grass.