Meaning Basket for a Mindful Holiday Season

We've put up our Christmas tree early this year, two full weeks before Thanksgiving. The plan is to decorate it during the November calm so we'll be able to enjoy it even while busy with rehearsals and preparations for the annual LUNCH Holiday Show next week, and tired week that follows, when we'll be putting away mountains of scenery, props, and costumes.

With all that's been in the news lately, I've been especially aware of the gulf between the attitudes of Thanksgiving, love, community, and gratitude this holiday is meant to represent--with it's intended mindfulness of others' needs--and the actual Season of Consumerism and over-consumption that follows instead. I know I sound like a bit of a Scrooge, but personally I don't need any more things, or hobbies, or toys for entertaining myself. I have much more of everything already, and I suspect that most of the people I know are in this same situation. Our planet doesn't need the impact of manufacturing all this, transporting or storing it. I'm aware of my own excess, but at a loss to know what to do to help the many, many people in this world who have far less than they need for basic survival and comfort.

With all this in mind, I've decided to make a small change in the way I approach the coming season. In effort to change my holiday habits of over-doing, over-wanting, and over-buying, I've created a different sort of symbolic container to place beneath our Christmas tree. It's a second-hand basket--a Meaning Basket--to contain my growing awareness of all the good that already exists in my life, as well as tangible reminders of the material, hopeful, and helpful longings I feel.

To this end, I've cut small pieces of scrap printer paper from the recycling bin, gathered a handful of pencils, and placed these together in convenient places all around our house.  On the slips of scrap paper, As I think of them I'll write the names of the many people, things and opportunities I already have in my life, then I"ll drop these into the Meaning Basket under our Christmas tree. (The piles of paper scraps and pencils all over the house are something I've been using for a long time to capture creative ideas and reminders for my TO-DO list.)

I'll focus, especially, on those people and things I never seem to get around to enjoying as fully as I would like. Then, I'll take steps to do the special things I always intend to do, but never seem to get around to because I'm too busy with shopping, rushing around, or looking through the mountains of holiday catalogs that come in the mail each day. As for my unused possessions, I'm either going to make a point put those things to good use in the coming year or give them to someone else who will. How many of these are things I've asked for and received for Christmas in the past?!

I'll also write down the needs I see in our community, the many things I see and feel drawn to help with. There are so many that I often feel pulled in all directions, overwhelmed, with no plan of action. In January, as I'm looking ahead to the coming year, I'll sort these out and choose something to follow through with, something tangible and manageable to make a start.

Our close family has asked to keep gift exchange simple this year with primarily homemade, handmade gifts, gift cards, and time spent spent enjoying each other's company. This feels right to me.

Mindful of this, I intend to use the basket and scraps of paper instead of spending December thinking about what else I might want and don't really need, or wandering through stores and shopping online trying to figure out what to get for people who've told me they don't really need anything else either. When I see an ad for something I might want, I'll get the scissors and cut out a picture of it, like I did when I was a kid, then drop that picture into the basket where it can sit in the context of all the good that already exists in my life. Thus, my inevitable longings for shiny, new things will find more balanced context, a context where I can better decide which acquisitive longings to indulge.

All this may be asking a lot of a second-hand basket, but such a simple container seems like an appropriate symbol for carrying the Thanksgiving mindset of gratitude and mindfulness forward into the coming Christmas season. It is my hope that the value of my new Meaning Basket and the insights it holds will stay in place long after our Christmas tree has been put away.

Will you join me by filling your own Meaning Basket this season?

©Kay Pere ~ Effusive Muse Publishing

RECIPE: Lemon Cranberry Scones

This morning I had a little extra uninterrupted time, so to celebrate I decided to bake something. For me, baking is recreation. The time it requires, not to mention the butter and sugar, makes it feel like a decadent luxury.

Since I was planning to go to church this morning, I could indulge in baking without eating the results all by myself. These lemony cranberry scones were shared at coffee hour after the service, though the ones in the picture above were set aside to enjoy here at home over the next few days.

Heavy cream the recipe calls for is not something I usually keep in the house. I did a search online and found a heavy cream substitute recipe that worked just fine, made from 3/4 cup milk and 2/3 c melted butter stirred together. I just added enough extra milk to make the 1 1/4 cup called for in the recipe below.

If you've never made scones before, you can watch the method in a video on gourmet.com, the only remnant of dear departed magazine, shut down last fall by Conde Naste Publishing, much to the disappointment of many. [I'm still sad about this loss. It was my only magazine subscription, always a delight to look through each month when it arrived. They tried sending me a few issues of Bon Appetit magazine in its place, but it just wasn't the same.] The original recipe for Dried Fruit Cream Scones, which I modified to create this recipe, is available on the Gourmet Magazine website. Both of these are now only accessible to registered users, but sign up is free, worthwhile, and doesn't require a divulgence of personal information in exchange.

I've listed quantities for this recipe that usually work. This morning, though, high humidity made the dough extra sticky. I stirred in extra handfuls of flour until the proper texture was reached. The resulting batch was not as fluffy and tender as they are under other circumstances. Even so, they were all eaten by friends conversing in summer sunshine on the church's freshly painted front steps or in the cool shade of the entryway.

LEMON CRANBERRY SCONES

• 2 c all-purpose flour, plus additional for processing cranberries & dusting kneading board
• 1 Tbs baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/4 c sugar
• zest of 1 lemon
• 3/4 c dried cranberries
• 1 1/4 c heavy cream (or milk/melted butter substitute cooled to room temperature)

GLAZE

• 2 Tbs butter, melted
• 3 Tbs sugar

1) Preheat even to 425F. Use an ungreased baking sheet or line it with baker's parchment.

2) Whisk together flour, baking powder, salt and sugar. Stir in lemon zest and set aside for at least 15 minutes to infuse dry ingredients with lemon flavor.

3) Chop cranberries tossed with 1 Tbs flour in food processor to desired size. Flour prevents dried fruit from sticking.

4) Stir heavy cream into dry ingredients to combine, until a rough, sticky mass begins to form. Do not over stir or scones will be tougher.

5) Flour a board and transfer the dough to it. Knead the dough 8-9 times, then pat into a square or rectangle about 1/2 inch thick.

6) For the glaze, still working on the board, brush top of dough with melted butter. Sprinkle evenly with sugar.

7) Cut the rectangle horizontally and vertically to make a 4x4 grid of 16 pieces. Cut these diagonally to form 32 small wedges. Alternately, pat the dough into a 10 inch circle, glaze and cut into 12 larger wedges.

8) Place wedges on baking sheet(s), allowing about 1/2 inch between small wedges. For larger wedges, allow up to 1 inch. Bake until light golden brown, about 15 minutes.

(c)2010 Kay Pere~Effusive Muse Publishing