“Step by step, [ the women I work with ] find ways — small ways, at first — to regain their power. For one woman, it was a simple gold bracelet she had received from her sponsor. It was all she had and became her connection to life itself. It was not the material value of the bracelet that was important to her but the friendship it symbolized. Someone cared about her; someone was there if she needed help. Every time I saw her she’d say to me, ‘Have you seen my golden bracelet?’ It had such a powerful impact on her.” — Zainab Salbi, IN SWEET COMPANY: CONVERSATIONS WITH EXTRAORDINARY WOMEN ABOUT LIVING A SPIRITUAL LIFE

It’s early October and I’m perusing the aisles of my local special reductions and additional discounts taken at the register outlet store. I make a hard right at kitchen utensils and Shazaam! I’m thrust into a merchandising sinkhole, a Christmas display so laden with sparkly stuff that I shield my eyes from the glare.

Brandishing Christmas wares in early October used to bug me, as if to say shelves dripping with shiny stuff would motivate my spirit of giving. I connect with the Spirit of giving when I focus my energy inward, when I wrap myself in The Holy and The Quiet. It’s a gathering thing, a gathering of energy and loved ones as well as an accrual of stuff.
 
The word “gathering” always makes me smile. If I say the word slowly, the “ah” and “er” sounds vibrate in my chest — in my heart — and the “ing” sound — if you give me some creative license, here — invokes the joy that permeates a loving rendezvous.  And I adore the ing, the act of creating love and joy in the present moment, extending ing into the future as the remembrance of celebrated joys.

Ing has implications way beyond the holidays, but given the craziness that ensues as the holidays approach, I put myself on notice when the sparkly stuff appears on the shelves; it’s a way to remember that the time is fast approaching when I need to preserve and protect my ability to ing. I do this by thinking about my loved ones as souls transcendent of their personalities and Holiday Wish Lists. This inevitably helps me find some really cool holiday gifts for them that serve as an ongoing reminder of how much I value them. When the madness starts to descend, I pray “Please God, let me see this with Your eyes.”  (Always a good way to preserve one’s ing.)  And I “practice the Presence,” keep the thought of God percolating in the background of my mind by repeating a mantra, humming a favored holiday song or carrying on a mental conversation with God even as I brave the crowds of holiday shoppers.

This, to me, is the “real deal,” the Big Ing, a joy not found on the shelves of any outlet store I know of. Each time I see a strand of tinsel or a package of holiday cards or candles, each time I see a newspaper ad or in-store display for special reductions and additional discounts taken at the register, I affirm my commitment to maintaining my ing. I’m not always successful at it — my be ing is often trammeled by my do ing — but my desire to preserve the true Spirit of Give ing is worth the effort.

Your thoughts?