Christina L
Well-known member
I just wanted to say Happy Holidays to all once again. I will be taking another much-needed break from VR.com again for a little while. I hopefully will check back in at the end of January after my annual echo and exam with better news than last year. 
I read this editorial this morning in the Sunday Denver Post and I thought it was beautifully and profoundly written - food for thought for all of us. I know I LOVE to read the paper and especially love really good writers.
Regarding the article below, I think that most of us here on VR.com already know what Christmas bliss is really all about.
Christina L
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Seeking Christmas bliss
By Delio Tamayo Gómez
Article Last Updated:12/08/2006 08:49:24 PM MST
Aurora
It happens every year: Just before Christmas and Hanukkah, instead of angelic flocks singing peace on Earth and goodwill toward men, a spell cast by a segment of the entertainment industry and the media descends and covers the land. It usually touches down in the form of a "must have" toy, which, enveloped in enchanting glitter, beckons us to the promised land.
This year it is the so-called PlayStation 3, which, equipped with multiple options, I am told, vows to hold us in such a close embrace that dopamine will flow freely out of our brains and in such a copious torrent as to quickly sweep us past the ethereal and into the arms of ecstasy. (I wouldn't be able to tell a PlayStation 3 from a Nintendo even if my life depended on it).
And as predictable as the sun rising again, we respond. Material receptors in full alert, we break loose from our common sense and charge through mall doors in furious stampede. It is a spectacle akin to the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain, at the beginning of the festivities of San Fermín - the one Ernest Hemingway liked so much, and describes in "The Sun Also Rises."
But as with the beasts, which delight in daylight and the momentary freedom that leads to their ill-fated date with the matadors, our fleeting bliss with the material leads us back to the dungeon of loneliness and boredom, and to yet another wait for the arrival of the next toy to make us whole.
Our perennial quest for the ultimate material joy has turned us into model artisans. The old cliché, "He who dies with the most toys wins," we have molded into our sacred creed, our pledge of alliance. How about instead, "He who dies with the most toys dies alone"? While toys might lift us to a temporary high, what we really hunger for is the warmth of heart, or what psychologist Mary Pipher calls "the shelter of each other."
Lest I be deemed a hypocrite, I confess that I have weaknesses aplenty. And I also recognize that without consumer spending, our economy would be a dead tree. But how many toys do we really need, and have we lost track of the real meaning of Christmas and Hanukkah?
Watching the throngs elbowing their way through malls and electronic stores in pursuit of the enchanted toy, and reading about guns blasting at the beginning of this holiday season, I found myself reflecting and traveling back on the wings of time.
It was the summer of 1971, luggage practically still in tow after my arrival from my native Colombia. A classmate from veterinary school and close friend asked me in a letter: What are some of the main differences between U.S. and Colombian societies you have observed?
With greater wealth, I answered, people in this country boast an impressive inventory of material things that keep them busy, but have less time for family and friends; they are more self-reliant, whereas people in Colombia, lacking a treasure trove, lean more on one another for enjoyment and support. The middle class in this country, I continued, was locked in a struggle, hanging by the edges to preserve their standard of living, while the people in Colombia were desperately trying to shake loose from the tethers of poverty and into the more grassy lands of middle class.
Thirty-five years later and with Christmas upon us, the more things change, the more they seem to stay the same. Or perhaps that might be too sunny a statement.
We are still on the hunt for the ultimate material bliss, but our middle class has begun to fall off the edge; meanwhile, in Colombia more toys are available, but the budding middle class has been ground down by the oversized wheels of advancing poverty.
But we should not despair. Even if the sun dims and the night advances, we shall remain aware that the coldest winter night is no match for a warm heart. And to us Christians, a reminder that Christmas is Christ's birthday, not ours.
Dr. Delio Tamayo Gómez is a veterinarian practicing in Aurora. A native of Colombia, he immigrated to the U.S. in 1970.
-----------------------------
I read this editorial this morning in the Sunday Denver Post and I thought it was beautifully and profoundly written - food for thought for all of us. I know I LOVE to read the paper and especially love really good writers.
Regarding the article below, I think that most of us here on VR.com already know what Christmas bliss is really all about.
Christina L
---------------------------------------------
Seeking Christmas bliss
By Delio Tamayo Gómez
Article Last Updated:12/08/2006 08:49:24 PM MST
Aurora
It happens every year: Just before Christmas and Hanukkah, instead of angelic flocks singing peace on Earth and goodwill toward men, a spell cast by a segment of the entertainment industry and the media descends and covers the land. It usually touches down in the form of a "must have" toy, which, enveloped in enchanting glitter, beckons us to the promised land.
This year it is the so-called PlayStation 3, which, equipped with multiple options, I am told, vows to hold us in such a close embrace that dopamine will flow freely out of our brains and in such a copious torrent as to quickly sweep us past the ethereal and into the arms of ecstasy. (I wouldn't be able to tell a PlayStation 3 from a Nintendo even if my life depended on it).
And as predictable as the sun rising again, we respond. Material receptors in full alert, we break loose from our common sense and charge through mall doors in furious stampede. It is a spectacle akin to the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain, at the beginning of the festivities of San Fermín - the one Ernest Hemingway liked so much, and describes in "The Sun Also Rises."
But as with the beasts, which delight in daylight and the momentary freedom that leads to their ill-fated date with the matadors, our fleeting bliss with the material leads us back to the dungeon of loneliness and boredom, and to yet another wait for the arrival of the next toy to make us whole.
Our perennial quest for the ultimate material joy has turned us into model artisans. The old cliché, "He who dies with the most toys wins," we have molded into our sacred creed, our pledge of alliance. How about instead, "He who dies with the most toys dies alone"? While toys might lift us to a temporary high, what we really hunger for is the warmth of heart, or what psychologist Mary Pipher calls "the shelter of each other."
Lest I be deemed a hypocrite, I confess that I have weaknesses aplenty. And I also recognize that without consumer spending, our economy would be a dead tree. But how many toys do we really need, and have we lost track of the real meaning of Christmas and Hanukkah?
Watching the throngs elbowing their way through malls and electronic stores in pursuit of the enchanted toy, and reading about guns blasting at the beginning of this holiday season, I found myself reflecting and traveling back on the wings of time.
It was the summer of 1971, luggage practically still in tow after my arrival from my native Colombia. A classmate from veterinary school and close friend asked me in a letter: What are some of the main differences between U.S. and Colombian societies you have observed?
With greater wealth, I answered, people in this country boast an impressive inventory of material things that keep them busy, but have less time for family and friends; they are more self-reliant, whereas people in Colombia, lacking a treasure trove, lean more on one another for enjoyment and support. The middle class in this country, I continued, was locked in a struggle, hanging by the edges to preserve their standard of living, while the people in Colombia were desperately trying to shake loose from the tethers of poverty and into the more grassy lands of middle class.
Thirty-five years later and with Christmas upon us, the more things change, the more they seem to stay the same. Or perhaps that might be too sunny a statement.
We are still on the hunt for the ultimate material bliss, but our middle class has begun to fall off the edge; meanwhile, in Colombia more toys are available, but the budding middle class has been ground down by the oversized wheels of advancing poverty.
But we should not despair. Even if the sun dims and the night advances, we shall remain aware that the coldest winter night is no match for a warm heart. And to us Christians, a reminder that Christmas is Christ's birthday, not ours.
Dr. Delio Tamayo Gómez is a veterinarian practicing in Aurora. A native of Colombia, he immigrated to the U.S. in 1970.
-----------------------------
