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Holidays,
Homecoming and Green Pastures
At this time of year
people are talking about their plans for the holidays,
where they are going, whether they are driving, taking a
bus or flying, and who will be participating in Christmas
celebrations. In this world of high-speed internet,
cell phone capability and vast mobility, the annual trek
to kinfolk's house still has tremendous
meaning and upmost importance. Even though many will grouse
at the prospect of the pilgrimage, sometimes far away, most
of us deeply honor holy day rituals. Our commitment
to the tradition of these sacred gatherings speaks
to the kernel of family and community that lives in each
of us -- and even in the 21st century this dedication exists
and seeks an outlet to flourish.
Obviously the idea
of family has changed dramatically through the decades,
and great distance has made family more of a concept than
a group, a sense of connection continues. During the holidays
the feeling of separateness fostered by
today's complex society and extreme busyness subsides as
we come together in a common goal: to count
our many blessings and to give our hearts as well as presents
to family and friends.
This holiday season
I am celebrating life's abundance at home.
Recently I noted the first anniversary of my return to Buckhorn
community in Lee County where I grew up in a farmhouse across
the road from my Grandpa's country store.
This homecoming is divine justice -- Grandpa and everyone
teased me so much about being "quar" that I vowed
to leave this area forever and here I am back home "eating
my words." Even with Buckhorn's amusing history,
colorful characters, and juicy gossip Grandpa found delight
in regaling folks about his strange grandchild's antics.
Now I thank this amazing man every day for his tall tales
and humorous portrayals that have provided fodder for my
story-telling and led to the creation of my popular "Lett's
Set a Spell" column and publication of two
successful books.
Everyone in Buckhorn
and beyond yakked about how "Sandy Lynn" moved
every few years, traded in significant others like
used cars, wrote about big shots and "citified"
topics, and had become "way too big for her britches."
I confess I had an itch that always needed scratching
-- I soothed this longing by meeting new friends, experiencing
different adventures, and exploring various opportunities,
but I never found a lasting home. I lived in many houses,
some spacious and
expensive,
but my restless spirit didn't find peace there. I always
believed that the grass was greener on the other side of
the fence.
Disillusioned with
my focus on green bills I left behind my
communications company and materialistic lifestyle in Raleigh
in 1998. Searching for a greater purpose in my life I escaped
to a small cabin on a large farm near Sanford where
I set up my computer in front of glass windows overlooking
a large pond. I ended up in very green pastures
-- I had to pass over two cattle crossings and maneuver
around some cows to get to my home deep in the woods. Writing
every morning I joyfully indulged in creative expression
and often watched the sun rise over the pond. As the sun's
rays burst forth my heart quickened and as Mother Nature's
healing energy danced around me my soul soared.
Seeking a new voice
as a writer I started sharing stories about my family
and the mighty fine folks who used to set a spell at Grandpa's
country store in a series of articles first published in
a Wilmington newspaper. As I began to honor the many blessings
from my childhood I felt led to go back to my home
community to spend more time with my parents, and soon afterwards
the ideal house on a pond became available. Mama and Daddy
are 84, have been married for 62 years and live happily
in the same farmhouse Grandpa gave them when Daddy returned
from World War II. I feel fortunate that
I can set a spell with them often. At Thanksgiving I felt
most grateful to be living in the country and surrounded
by cows and horses grazing in the fields.
Now I live in green
pastures every day, and even as the grass turns
brown and the trees go bare I understand there are seasons
of the fields like the seasons of the heart, and all is
well. I thank God that my wandering spirit
rests easily now in the fullness of my harvest. I look forward
to a Christmas rich in family traditions and community customs.
I am thankful that I have returned to my roots
but more importantly that I have come home to myself and
to the country girl with an open heart.
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AlexSandra
Lett
is
a
professional
speaker
and
the
author
of
Natural
Living,
From
Stress
to
Rest,
A
Timeless
Place,
Lett’s
Set
a
Spell
at
the
Country
Store,
Timeless
Moons,
Seasons
of
the
Fields
and
Matters
of
the
Heart,
and
Timeless
Recipes
and
Remedies,
Country
Cooking,
Customs,
and
Cures.
Her
next
book,
Coming
Home
to
My
Country
Heart,
Timeless
Stories
about
Life,
Death,
and
Healing,
will
be
released
in
March
2007.
Southern
Books & Talks