The Imaginary War on Christmas

As this article is my first piece posted in Elephant Journal, I do believe I signed some papers saying they own it now and I need  mention that if I post it anywhere else. (There,I hope that does the trick.)

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/11/the-imaginary-war-on-christmas/

I saw this year’s first signs of it littering my FB in tandem with the Starbucks snowflake massacre. The imaginary war on Christmas has become a tradition with origins as muddled as Christmas itself.

 up in the Christian religion, circa 1970’s, the hot topic was Santa versus Jesus. Back then jolly ole Saint Nick was trying to usurp the Christmas spirit and upstage the nativity scene with a vengeance only a dead man in a red suit could. It was confusing because not liking Santa was as un-American as communism.

 We sat on Santa’s lap for pictures. He snuck into our carols and even forged signatures on our presents. We were taught about God, Jesus (who was God’s son, but also God) the Holy Spirit (not to be mistaken with the Christmas spirit- although they both lived in your heart), and Santa Clause. We had to be careful not to like Santa more, even though Jesus never bribed us with full stockings or candy canes. There were a lot more proof of Santa as in pictures and movies. He actually appeared in the flesh each year at the mall, school, and the town parade. Despite all that evidence, turns out it was a trick. On the fateful day our siblings, peers, or mean neighbor kid shattered our magical Rudolph the reindeered world, December was never the same again.

“Wait a minute, so Santa is not real, but everybody else is? Jesus, God, Mary, Joseph, the tooth fairy, Easter bunny, and Holy Spirit, and Christmas spirit? WHAAAAAT? No Easter Bunny or tooth fairy either? The Christmas spirit isn’t a thing, it’s just a feeling?”  I totally confused and utterly devastated.

While secular Christmas songs, decorations, stories, and characters (my favorite being Frosty the Snowman) were tolerated, they were not to be celebrated.

 From the pulpit I would hear that Jesus is the only reason for the season, and the Christmas tree somehow represented the cross he would later die on. The Christmas color red symbolized the blood He shed (the same blood we would pretend to drink in remembrance of Him). I learned to never ever write X-mas. Although it may seem like a short cut, it was just another way they were X-ing Christ out of Christmas. In my child mind I was sure the menacing they were pointing nuclear weapons  straight at us and baby Jesus!

Just shy of a decade later I had recovered from the Santa scam when another blow rendered me all but faithless. According to every source I can find Quirinius’ census (the reason Mary and Joseph were traveling to Bethlehem in the first place) happened in late spring, not the winter.  WHAAAAAT????? So Jesus could be the reason for spring, just not this season?

This is the part where I get accused of being a heretic and a major church party pooper. If you’re hating on me right now please take a moment to refer back to

Exodus, the ninth commandment: “Thou shalt not lie.” Settle down I’m only truth telling here, it’s not an attack on anything biblical, only mythical. Let’s not get the two confused.

I’m not quite in the mood to give you a thorough history lesson,

so here is the net of it: The pagans celebrated the Saturnalia on Dec. 25th, think of Carnival happening in Sodom and Gomorrah, and throw in a healthy dose of anti-Semitism. Over the course of centuries the church, media, and corporations hijacked, painted over, and sold us the kid friendly, minty fresh version we’re claiming a war over today. Please explain to me again how Jesus is the reason for the season…

In recent years the greeting “Happy Holidays” has become regarded in some circles as an offensive anti-Christian misnomer for “Merry Christmas”. This boggles my mind for a couple of reasons.

1.)  “Happy Holidays” is a super handy way to bundle up the many holidays taking place from Thanksgiving through New Years. Why argue with good old-fashioned efficiency?

2.)  If my Jewish friends went around insistently saying “Happy Hanukkah” to absolutely everyone, mandating that menorahs and dreidels be the exclusive holiday bling, well that would be just weird. Or what if Happy Kwanzaa became the only acceptable holiday greeting? Last year a radical explained to me in a very loud voice the holes in my theory. The difference he stated is that Christmas is an American holiday so it should be the overarching theme, and other “lesser holidays” are secondary. WHAAAAAT? Like America came up with Christmas? And wasn’t your earlier point that Christmas is a Christian holiday and that secularism has ruined it? So now we’re abolishing division of church and state?

3.)  I have yet to hear anyone of my Jewish or Muslim friends complain about Christmas, or the words “Merry Christmas” in relation to their own celebratory preferences. My friends who honor other holidays, or chose to not celebrate at all during the season aren’t trying to take away my Christmas. The only people I hear complaining and creating conflict are my Christian friends and family. In fact it seems they are waging their own imaginary war, getting riled up and defensive about Christmas as they read one another’s rants and listen to Fox news commentary as if it were gospel. You’re not being bullied, threatened, or attacked when I say Happy Holidays, I promise. I’m not saying it instead of Merry Christmas. I’m including Merry Christmas and the other holidays that you may observe religiously or otherwise.

 Here’s my armchair diplomat solution:

What if we let go of the defensive stance on Christmas? There’s no need to fight about whether or not it’s religious by nature. If you choose to make it that way, great! Please don’t be a dictator about it. If someone else wants to make it about Santa and shopping, so be it. Lay down your Christmas arms and grab libations of cheer!

I choose to make this a time of merriment, pretty lights, good food and drink, friends, family, Xmas songs, and movies. Oh, and lots of love! I invite you to do the same if you like. Happy Hanukkah, Solstice, Christmas, Kwanzaa, Boxing Day, and New Years! Enjoy!

Sweet  Autumn has arrived and we love to sing its praises, the coziness of dawning a sexy sweater, pumpkin spice everything, we can even cuddle in bed again with out sweating all over each other.

Yeah well that’s not the cute stuff I’m going to talk about today. So turn off the smooth jazz and button up your coat.

There’s a cool shadowy undercurrent that hisses quietly in the background. The days are shorter, which means there’s more darkness, more shadow time. Yes more things to run away from and more nooks and crannies to hide our shit in.

 It’s the time of year when the veils between the worlds grow thin. The voices of guides, ghosts, and mystery speak to you from the other side. The leaves of last season are falling leaving you bare and exposed. You want to conceal yourself in a mountain of bite size candy bars and their empty wrapper corpses.

What I’m trying to say is from now til Dec. 31^st your inner demons want to dance. Every self-sabotaging trick in the book is offering itself for the taking as you’re scrambling to keep your most creepy stuff hidden. The habits you gave up ages ago, those little goblins are knocking at your door.

What should you do???? Work more of course. No I’m kidding. I just said that because its one of the masks I have used in the past to dodge my dharma darts and stay hidden. Here are a few ideas I am presently exploring.

1.)  Whoaa Nellie!

Slow down and examine my motives. Just exactly WTH am I doing this for? Honestly what is behind this 3rd glass of wine I’m mentally pouring on a weeknight cozied up next to my laptop?

A quick inquiry can get my sane self back in the drivers seat, avoiding debauchery and wreckage. It can also reveal some emotions I’ve been stifling. Yeah that’s right, cry it out girl!

2.)  Check your peeps!

Surround yourself with people who have your highest in mind. Who you surround yourself not only influences you, it defines you! Who has your back? Who will call you out with love, rather than commiserating with your sob stories?

I recently joined another mastermind circle of strong women who are willing to stretch and shine. This is a safe place to declare what I’m creating, give updates, and state what is in the way (so I can get it out of the way!).

3.)  Just say it already!

Yep I’m talking about the dreaded uncomfortable conversations. The shit in the shadows, the elephant in the room, the honesty you’ve been gagging on for too long, just say it.

It’ll be scary. It might even cause a storm. But that storm will toss truths

onto the shore that will set everyone involved free. Say it with love, keep it simple, straight to the point, and then afford them the time to digest it. This isn’t about being blamey, whiny, or cruel. It is about clearing the air, re-establishing boundaries and finding out what the other person’s needs are.

All that valm you’ve been avoiding is making you a weirdo, but not in a good way. You’re jaded, unavailable, and unable to trust. Let it go, turn the light on and watch the cockroaches scatter!

That’s what I’ve been up to and I suspect it might just be working.

I invite you to harness this full moon’s auspicious potency and elegantly strip off your costume, throw away your bag of tricks and treats, step out of the shadows to embrace the wise witchy ways of your inner knowing.

Calling Sacred Sassy Sisters, Wild Women, and Change Makers...Read This Now!

Epiphany by Helena Wierzbicki

It’s not about me, or my retreats. It's about all of us. It's about anyone who needs this work. I’m just gonna do it. This is a no brainer. 

I'm going to need your help. Come on team where are you?....

I don’t subscribe to the propaganda that we all have the same opportunities to gain wealth. We don’t. Privilege exists. My heart keeps asking me to close the gap and I’m finally whispering, “Yes, yes I will.”

During my time working in the personal growth and development world in some ways I felt fulfilled watching people open up to new possibility, forgive old grudges, take on big challenges, and most of all learn to love themselves. There has been one spur in my heart over the years: The droves of hard working depleted people who desperately need this kind of juju but do not have the financial resources to partake.

My new bold vision is to provide scholarships to women in need. Offering them weekend or weeklong retreats for spiritual restoration, mind body connection, a community of sisterhood, and lots of fun!

As a life and body coach, public speaker, and someone who has led women’s retreats internationally for several years I can tell you that ALL women need the opportunity to break away from the toil of their daily grind and find time to reconnect to themselves, nature, and plug into a sisterhood of other women.

I have seen countless women show up broken and depleted, barely going through the motions of life and after just a few days of being nourished physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually they are renewed. They return to their families and careers powerfully and creatively inspired.

Unfortunately this is a luxury only a small portion of our population has the resources for. What if it wasn't a luxury? What if we collectively decided this kind of self care was a necessity regardless of your income bracket?

After donating many hours of working one on one with women in need I see how their exhaustion, weariness, and hopelessness has sabotaged their parenting efforts, relationships, and every facet of life. I also see how with a little help from the rest of us who do have the resources we can bring about a massive change. This change will affect more than only the women’s own lives. It will ripple out into the community, touching their kids, spouses, parents, colleagues, and eventually creating a shift for all of us.

There’s some truth to the old saying, “When mama’s happy, everybody’s happy.”

Never before have we lived in such a disconnected society. While we may have 500+ friends on Facebook most of us don’t even know our next-door neighbors. The guise of “looking good and keeping up with the Jones’s” has made it increasingly difficult for women to connect in an authentic vulnerable way. I say let’s step off the treadmill and get real, get clear, get free!

Join me and thousands of other women as we create a shift each in our own way, as we look out for one another, and create opportunities for all our sisters to receive the gift of restoration.

My idea is still forming and I’m open to your input.

Here is the plan thus far:

·      I have the fundraising platform secured and almost ready to roll (oh and it's awesome!).

·      Each person who donates will have the opportunity to nominate a woman they feel deserves a break!

·      When the money is raised the women will get to choose from a list of restorative retreats to find the one that would be the best fit for her. (Yes I am partnering with other amazing facilitators in my field who have different awesome juju to offer! Do you want to be one of them?)

What I’m currently looking for:

A badass team!

·      If you’re a marketing/PR expert and want to donate your time…

·      If you have any skill set that you believe would support this vision…

·      If you are associated with a company that offers women’s retreats…

·      If you want to donate to this cause…

Contact me Kara@karamckay.com

Damn this feels good.

Stayed tuned and feel free to contact me!    Also please share this post on your page!

The Sh*t I'm Tired of Hiding From You.

Caution: I'm in a mood.

Each of us has our own achilles enigma, the deep hidden pocket of puss that guts us when we least expect it, even though we're always bracing on some level... expecting it. Today I give you mine. I write to confess, to cry, to process my own guilty confusion and become even more human.

Last year his suicide episode felt similar with its lung crushing blurred vision. The walls of Seattle Children's Hospital ER were striving so hard to be friendly and serene as they carefully held the dam of parental angst back from contaminating the parents of healthy honor roll students.

It's different than wondering if your child is faking the flu to stay home from school. The magnitude of misjudging this one is absolute.

All we want as parents is for our children to be happy. My son's chronic malcontent began perhaps in utero. They say what you resist persists. I have resisted his malaise.

The cause and remedy game began early on with colic. My tiny baby screaming for hours with stomach pain, or was he already screaming out in protest, full opposition to his human plight?

Dizzy with the advice of peers, "His behavioral issues are a result of food allergies. Get him off wheat, eggs, and dairy. All of this will go away." Frustrated with the wisdom of my elders, "All this kid needs is a good spanking."

His first suicide attempt was in second grade when he tried to hang himself from his belt on the monkey bars during lunch recess. That's when the school became suspect of my son's "abusive home" and called to meet with us. 

It would be his art that rang alarm bells later that year. Pictures of death and destruction, "soldiers and insurgents fighting so hard they killed God" my son explained to the school psychologist as I sat across the desk in their cross hairs. Maybe that was the day his fundamentalist atheism was born.

His shocking IQ test results and advanced vocabulary made him a sure fire candidate for Aspergers syndrome. The University of Washington concurred though the signs were minimal, he did in fact show some up on the spectrum. A diagnosis that really means we don't know what the hell is wrong, btw you have shitty insurance.

The last public school straw came when he refused to put his head down on his desk to miss 5 minutes of recess. Two other boys had pulled some shenanigans that kept the whole class stuck inside heads prostrate in uniform shame. "No!" he refused boldly stating, "I will not be punished for crimes I did not commit. I'm going to recess!" The only place he went was the principal's office. En route he pointed to a stick lying on the sidewalk and told his teacher if he was a wizard he'd turn that stick into a viper to strike her dead. The emergency call came while I was at work. My son had threatened a teachers life. (In case you're wondering my son actually has no magical powers. We were however reading the Harry Potter series at home.)

Waldorf school was much kinder to his out of the box approach to life. It also gave his untamed creativity a place to romp. It is a system where learning is hands on and often outside. Dirt was a kid's friend and learning how to think was more important than learning what to think. Looking back with his teenage mind he's convinced this was a form of punishment I made him endure. He didn't want to be a "Waldork" anymore. I relented and agreed to letting him attend "normal high school." He dropped out in 10th grade.

When he's good, he's great. The combination of intelligence, curiosity, and wit makes him a hoot to hang out with. He's a conspiracy sympathizer, a writer of sci-fi, and a random facts buff. The lyrics that roll off his tongue are hip hop riots waiting to happen. He's got big dreams that take him soaring and he's got something else that leaves him plummeting unexpectedly. On days like these I fear, and he wishes he could plummet right to his death.

Between therapy, private school, numerous alternative body work modalities, and the myriad of dietary experiments we've made it, he's 18 years old now. There is one last ditch effort that has always been right behind Door #2 waiting its turn, the "natural mama's" nemesis: big pharma medication. I resisted it for so long. Right now I hear my inner bitch chiding, "You didn't homebirth, breast feed for years, family bed, and attachment parent to sell out like this, you should be ashamed."  

Yep, I know it's bullshit, none of it has any meaning except the meaning I give it. That's so comprehendible when life is party, when the good times are rolling. Other times those wise words are hollow and I want to flip them  off.

Thus far parenting remains the single greatest smashing of idealism known to me. Humbling my arrogant ass and taking the "Mama knows best" right out of me. All I know is I'm willing to do what it takes. Could this be another opportunity to peel away judgements, suspend assumptions on the nature of things and open up to what's possible?

Fuck Perfect!  Fingers crossed and heart opening...
I love you son.