Traditions, observances, birthdays, and ashes--

Today is George Washington's birthday.

And my husband's.

And Ash Wednesday.

So many observances! When I was a child in elementary school, we used to celebrate both Lincoln's birthday and Washington's, making paper cutouts and I even recall some sort of song or two that we sang in music class. Now we have Presidents' Day, and it's all about mattress and car sales, as far as I can tell. My husband's birthday is today as well; he has fond memories of sledding parties and such to mark this occasion. My daughter has made a beautiful from-scratch cake for him, which we will enjoy later!

But this year, as it so happens, today is also the start of Lent, Ash Wednesday, and I will be hustling along a bit to try to get to church before work. I was talking with a colleague yesterday about it, and she was telling me, "yeah, we used to do that, but we don't anymore." No real reason, no rebellion against the church, it is just something that they ...let go. 

I still observe Lent, with all of the meatless Fridays, trying to be mindful, taking a mental and spiritual inventory during the forty days. It's a good practice, I think, to be reflective, and this grimy end of winter seems to be just about tailor-made for it. Spring and summer are full of busy things, and the fall has it's own buttoning-up projects to keep us occupied. The Christmas/New Year's holiday season is packed with activity. But then-- the crusty, muddy, sometimes-cold, sometimes-oddly-warm, wet season is upon us. I suppose those who are responsible for outdoor things like plowing, sanding, and making maple syrup are just as busy now as in other times of the year, but for me, this grey time is an outward symbol of Lent.

So why do I observe the practice? Why do we continue any traditions, really? The world is a very changeable thing, isn't it, and there's a lot of uncertainty in just about every aspect of daily life. The years rocket by, filled with news of diseases, wars, and myriad existential crises. For me, traditions are an anchor, a lifeline, something to hang onto, so we can cope with all the other stuff. Even if the "other stuff" is good: births, marriages, and other life-affirming things, they all add up to change. Change can be, and often is, good, but we mark those changes with ritual and tradition, too. Those traditions fold the new things into our lives, like chocolate chips into cookie batter. 

I'll be off to church to hear the familiar readings, to embrace this season of reflection and sacrifices. It's a good re-set for me, and I appreciate what it means in the larger sense as well.

Have a good day,

C