Do you hear what I hear? Do you hear what I hear? A song, a song High above the trees With a voice Voice as big as the sea
— Noël Regney and Gloria Shayne (1962)
Let’s keep it simple today. I am just going to wish you all well for this Christmas Eve and safe travels to all that have to hit the road or soar through the sky on this day.
Many of you will be busy with last minute holiday preparations or travel and will be immersed in the din of it all. Silence and quietude might be in scarce supply which is a pity. One of my fondest memories of Christmas as a child is sitting in the still darkness being cut by the soft lights of our Christmas tree. The image of that tree and the peaceful quietness surrounding it remain deeply etched into my psyche.
Like Citizen Kane‘s Rosebud, that tree and its aura of peace and quiet might be that thing I have pursued my whole life.
Hmm…
We seldom appreciate the treasures given to us by a found silence. We are able with it to hear those things that evade us normally. Almost as if we can hear the sound of the world turning or the universe slowly shifting.
The sound of eternity speaking to us.
I hope to find that same quiet again where I can listen for such things.
Here’s a song whose title and tune you most likely know, Do You Hear What I Hear? Written in 1962 by the married songwriting team of Noël Regney and Gloria Shayne, it has been recorded by hundreds of artists and sold tens of millions of records. It’s one of those carols that has been a part of our holiday season for most of our lives to the point that it feels like it should be a much older song.
This version is a bit different than the one that you know. It is performed by the Blind Boys of Alabama and it is what I would call a bit deconstructed, paring away certain parts of the song and focusing on the chorus. It has a bluesy feel that you don’t associate with the original. I like it as it gives me a different perspective on the song.
I am sharing two versions with slightly different tempos and beats. The first is a live performance with a bit more of a blues shuffle and the second is their recorded version with Taj Mahal. I included both because the live performance ends a bit abruptly.
Wishing you a peaceful and joyful Christmas eve. May you find a bit of that silence during this time so that you can better hear the sound of eternity, if only for a few moments.
Are you willing to forget what you have done for other people, and to remember what other people have done for you; to ignore what the world owes you, and to think what you owe the world; to put your rights in the background, and your duties in the middle distance, and your chances to do a little more than your duty in the foreground; to see that your fellow-men are just as real as you are, and try to look behind their faces to their hearts, hungry for joy; to own that probably the only good reason for your existence is not what you are going to get out of life, but what you are going to give to life; to close your book of complaints against the management of the universe, and look around you for a place where you can sow a few seeds of happiness–are you willing to do these things even for a day? Then you can keep Christmas.
— Henry Van Dyke, Keeping Christmas (1905)
I recently came across the short essay that is included in full below titled Keeping Christmas. It makes the case that if we can demonstrate our connection with humanity with acts of decency and a spirit of generosity during the Christmas season, then we can surely maintain that same spirit throughout the year.
We can keep the spirit of Christmas with us all year long.
I don’t think keeping your holiday decorations up all year-round or running Christmas movies nonstop in June and July on certain TV channels would qualify in Van Dyke’s way of thinking. But if by doing so, folks can somehow maintain a higher sense of compassion and generosity of spirit befitting the true holiday season throughout the year, then maybe he would indeed approve.
Henry Van Dyke (1852-1933) was one of those interesting multi-talents that the 19th century spawned. He was a clergyman, a Princeton professor, author, poet, and diplomat, serving as the ambassador to the Netherlands and Luxemborg just before and during WW I. He was a great friend of Mark Twain and officiated the NYC funeral service for Twain in 1910. He wrote the lyrics for Beethoven’s Ode to Joy that became the well-known hymn Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee. He also appeared here a couple of times, most recently for a poem of his, For Katrina’s Sundial, that was to be used an inscription on a sundial on the estate of a wealthy friend.The second verse of this poem has become well known on its own as a poem called Time Is. It was read at the funeral of Princess Diana and used on a London memorial to British victims of the 9/11 attacks, as well as inspiring a 1969 song from the rock group It’s a Beautiful Day.
His life and his work both as a clergyman and a writer centered around serving others. He was one of those people who were able to keep Christmas.
And he never saw one Hallmark movie.
As I said, his short essay is below and is well worth reading. I am also including a performance of Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee, that features Van Dyke’s lyrics. This is lovely and joyful version with the full chorus and audience engaged.
It probably doesn’t fall into the category of little-known holiday songs that I have been trying to maintain here in recent days.
If not, so what? Tough biscuits. I don’t even know if tough biscuits is a real phrase, but it kept me from using a more earthy one.
I am trying to keep Christmas, after all.
And if I– someone who is not adhering to any one religion or creed–can do it, anyone can.
Give it a shot.
ROMANS, xiv, 6: He that regardeth the day, regardeth it unto the Lord.
It is a good thing to observe Christmas day. The mere marking of times and seasons, when men agree to stop work and make merry together, is a wise and wholesome custom. It helps one to feel the supremacy of the common life over the individual life. It reminds a man to set his own little watch, now and then, by the great clock of humanity which runs on sun time.
But there is a better thing than the observance of Christmas day, and that is, keeping Christmas.
Are you willing to forget what you have done for other people, and to remember what other people have done for you; to ignore what the world owes you, and to think what you owe the world; to put your rights in the background, and your duties in the middle distance, and your chances to do a little more than your duty in the foreground; to see that your fellow-men are just as real as you are, and try to look behind their faces to their hearts, hungry for joy; to own that probably the only good reason for your existence is not what you are going to get out of life, but what you are going to give to life; to close your book of complaints against the management of the universe, and look around you for a place where you can sow a few seeds of happiness–are you willing to do these things even for a day? Then you can keep Christmas.
Are you willing to stoop down and consider the needs and the desires of little children; to remember the weakness and loneliness of people who are growing old; to stop asking how much your friends love you, and ask yourself whether you love them enough; to bear in mind the things that other people have to bear on their hearts; to try to understand what those who live in the same house with you really want, without waiting for them to tell you; to trim your lamp so that it will give more light and less smoke, and to carry it in front so that your shadow will fall behind you; to make a grave for your ugly thoughts, and a garden for your kindly feelings, with the gate open–are you willing to do these things even for a day? Then you can keep Christmas.
Are you willing to believe that love is the strongest thing in the world–stronger than hate, stronger than evil, stronger than death–and that the blessed life which began in Bethlehem nineteen hundred years ago is the image and brightness of the Eternal Love? Then you can keep Christmas.
Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth; that can transport the sailor and the traveler, thousands of miles away, back to his own fire-side and his quiet home!
–Charles Dickens, The Pickwick Papers (1836)
I came across the passage above from Dickens and thought it matched up well with the painting at the top. It was that idea of being transported home that made the connection for me. In the Dickens piece the transport comes in the form of memory sending one to their youthful home during holidays past. In the painting, it is the lure of home and the idea of once again being with those who they love that inspires haste in the journey.
I’m adding a tune from Yo-Yo Ma and Friends, A Christmas Jig / Mouth of the Tobique Reel. It is off his Songs of Joy & Peace album. I can imagine hearing this music playing as the boat glides homeward on the waves.
“If I could work my will,” said Scrooge, indignantly, “every idiot who goes about with “Merry Christmas’ on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!”
“Uncle!” pleaded the nephew.
“Nephew!”—returned the uncle, sternly, “keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.”
“Keep it!” repeated Scrooge’s nephew. “But you don’t keep it.”
“Let me leave it alone then,” said Scrooge. “Much good may it do you! Much good it has ever done you!”
“There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say,” returned the nephew. “Christmas among the rest. But I am sure that I have always thought of Christmas Time, when it has come round— apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that—as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts, freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say God bless it!”
–Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol (1843)
Quite morning. Incredibly dark when I got up this morning, even though the sky was clear and stars were shining. It was the kind of dark that makes it seem as though it is something more than an absence of light, that it is an entity with a mass and density. It was so dark that it felt impenetrable, that you could walk into it and it would be like walking into a wall.
I begin every morning in the dark and am comfortable in it but can’t recall this sort of darkness. It made me a bit uneasy, actually, and had me wishing that the morning light would break through the trees soon.
Uneasy or not, I know the light will come soon. Always has and always will. I guess there’s a lesson in there somewhere, but it will have to wait for another day.
Let’s just leave it here, along with the passage from A Christmas Carol, and get to some Sunday Morning Music. This is a holiday song focusing on light, so it could well apply to the darkness that has descended on my woods this early morning. This is another song from the fruitful collaboration of Alison Krauss and Robert Plant, The Light of Christmas Day. I’ve been trying to share holiday music in recent days that probably doesn’t get a lot of airplay and this might be another that falls into that category.
Mom got drunk and Dad got drunk At our Christmas party We were drinking champagne punch And homemade eggnog Little sister brought her new boyfriend He was a Mexican We didn’t know what to think of him Until he sang, “Feliz Navidad, Feliz Navidad”
–Robert Earl Keen, Merry Christmas from the Family
After yesterday’s post with a somewhat obscure holiday song, one of my good Texas friends and regular readers, Linda Leinen, reminded of a holiday song that she thought might not get much airplay outside of Texas, It was Merry Christmas from the Family from Robert Earl Keen, who has number of songs that I count among my favorites. This one has long been one of my favorites, one of those songs I sometimes break into unprompted at inappropriate times.
I was certain I had shared it here a number of times over the past 17 years. It turns out that the last time it showed up here was in 2009.
I guess it won’t be stale if I play it here today. Unless it is on your holiday playlist.
I shared the same image from The Simpsons in that 2009 post. Maybe that makes me appear to be lazy.
Lazy is as lazy does.
And that ain’t much this morning. I’m done here.
Here’s comes that song now. It is both funny and sweet. Perfectly imperfect. Just right for the season. This is a version that Linda shared with me:
Through long December nights we talk in words of rain or snow, while you, through chattering teeth, reply and curse us as you go. Why not spare a thought this day for those who have no flame to warm their bones at Christmas time? Say Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow.
–Jethro Tull, Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow
I haven’t listened to much holiday music this year. Haven’t fully invested myself into the holiday spirit thus far, plus the local radio channels that play only holiday music endlessly play the same songs over and over, to the point that you can almost predict the next song. I don’t know if I can bear hearing Mariah Carey sing All I Want for Christmas Is You again without tearing out my hair. I just don’t have enough hair to spare.
So, I went hunting for a holiday song this morning to share. one that might have eluded your ears. It did mine. It’s from Jethro Tull who have recorded quite a number of holiday songs over the years. This is from the late 80’s, I believe, and is titled Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow. It’s basically an admonition to spread your joy and lend a hand to those in need during the holiday season.
It just hot the spot for me this morning and I bet you haven’t heard this on any radio channel or holiday playlist.
Well, maybe you have. What the hell do I know?
Now get out of here before I lose my holiday spirit…
There’s a room out there somewhere with a woman in a chair With memories of childhood still lingering there How pretty the paper, the lights and the snow How precious those memories of long long ago
We held hands and stared at the lights on the tree As if Christmas was invented for you and for me When the angel on the treetop requested a song We sang, “Silent night all day long”
–John Prine, Silent Night All Day Long
Started the ADT (Androgen Deprivation Therapy) part of my treatment last Monday and it has gone pretty well thus far. However, I have had a creeping feeling of fatigue starting to show up in recent days, especially in the afternoon. It hit hard yesterday afternoon and this morning it was still with me, along with a sharp headache, which has eased a bit since I came into the studio, thankfully.
I can’t say definitively that any of this is related to the meds. I could just be tired this morning. Wouldn’t be the first time. But whatever the case, this is a going to be a quickie this morning, with a repeat of a favorite holiday song from John Prine that I shared a few years back. I really like the verses from the song at the top. They seem to capture Christmas from a kid’s perspective so well– as if Christmas was invented for you and for me. That’s probably why memories of Christmas past seem so vivid for many of us.
This is Silent Night All Day Long from John Prine.
I worry about this time of the year…I remember last year about this time… it was two o’clock in the morning, and I was sound asleep… Suddenly, out of nowhere, this crazy guy with a sled appears right on my roof… He was okay, but those stupid reindeer kept stepping on my stomach!
— Snoopy, Peanuts (23 Dec 66)
What better way to wash away the stench from the subject of yesterday’s post than to take a little break with the Peanuts gang? This little world created by Charles M. Schulz in 1950 represents the better parts of us. Empathy for others, a sense of innocence and humanity, and a joy in living immediately come to mind, all qualities that seem to be lacking with yesterday’s subject.
Below is a post from 2014 on how the Peanuts comics influenced my work. It contains the Christmas Dancescene from A Charlie Brown Christmas so how can you go wrong?
At a gallery opening last week, a very pleasant man asked if my work was influenced by the Peanutscartoons. He said the work had that same feeling for him.
The question kind of came out of the blue so I laughed at first. I went on to say that, of course, these cartoons had been a large influence on my work and probably the way I see things in general.
The Peanuts strip in the paper was a must-read every day and I remember vividly when A Charlie Brown Christmas first appeared in 1965, even though we had to watch on a black and white TV. Snoopy was the first thing I ever learned to draw, the result of an older boy on my school bus (thank you, Tom Hillman, wherever you might be) showing me how to do so in several easy steps. Throughout grade school Snoopy was drawn all over every piece of paper I came across, his Joe Cool and World War IFlying Ace characters being personal favorites.
I explained that many of those early cartoons — the great Chuck Jones’ Looney Tunes , the very early black and white Popeye cartoons, the Disney cartoons with their gorgeous color, and so many more–-informed and influenced the way I looked at things and set a pattern for the way I would later interpret the landscape. They created a visual shorthand in the work that simplified the forms in the surrounding landscape yet still gave a sense of place and time and emotion.
And that’s precisely what I try to do in my work today.
For me, A Charlie Brown Christmas is as close to perfect as any cartoon can be. It’s a wonderful blending of mood, movement and music with a smartness and sweet charm that never seems to diminish. For this time of year, what could be more fitting than the Vince Guaraldi’s Christmas Dance from it?
Have a great day and, if you feel like it, dance along with the Peanuts gang. It’ll do ya’ good…
”Tis the times’ plague, when madmen lead the blind.”
— William Shakespeare, King Lear
I feel obligated to say something today. I’d rather not but my conscience won’t allow me to stay silent today.
I don’t know that I can even begin to comment on the despicable and demented recent statements from Trump after the murder of Rob Reiner and his wife by their son without it becoming a profanity filled rant. From his words and actions over the past decade it was already obvious to many folks, but the world is now witnessing the actions of a madman on full display.
From his orders to criminally murder fishermen off the Venezuelan coast and the masked ICE troops assaulting and brutalizing US citizens here to his betrayal of our historic allies to ordering the prosecutions of his political foes, every day reveals more and more of his descent into madness. And I am only scratching the surface here with this list.
And yet there are still those who accept each new depth of depravity as being the new normal.
It begs the question: Who is more insane, the madman or those who refuse to see it?
History will not be kind to this era and the mass hysteria that enabled a horrid, soulless creature such as this to assume such great power.
It has to stop. Now. There is no time to wait and see. That’s like watching a guy in camo carrying an assault rifle enter an elementary school and saying, “Hold on. Let’s wait and see what happens.”
We’ve already said that too many times and now he’s in the school. Now we must stop him before he finishes the job.
That is our obligation and responsibility in this moment.
I apologize for writing this. I try to make this a place to get away from such things. But it cannot be avoided by any one of us any longer, try as we may.
It is never going to get any better than it is at this moment. It will continue to get worse unless we bring it to an end. Now.
Nirvana is right here, in the midst of the turmoil of life. It is the state you find when you are no longer driven to live by compelling desires, fears, and social commitments, when you have found your center of freedom and can act by choice out of that. Voluntary action out of this center is the action of the bodhisattvas — joyful participation in the sorrows of the world. You are not grabbed, because you have released yourself from the grabbers of fear, lust, and duties.
―Joseph Campbell, The Power of Myth
Not going to say much this morning. Maybe just give The Regenerationand the words from Joseph Campbell above some time to marinate and blend with the song below. There’s not much for me to add to this recipe this morning.
The song is the Beatles song Across the Universe. It seems right for this morning and this post, with its refrain of Jai Guru Deva Om which literally translates from the Sanskrit as glory to the shining remover of darkness. This version is from the Norwegian singer Aurora. It has an ethereal and delicate feel with beautiful harmonizing.
Seems like it goes well with the other ingredients for this breakfast dish.
Redtree Times 