Wednesday, January 8, 2020

Yuletide Insanity

I love Christmas movies. The soppier, the better. One of those I never tire of seeing is “The Bishop’s Wife.” No, no, not the one with Whitney Houston or whatever. The classic 1947 Cary Grant, Loretta Young, and David Niven version. In the movie, Young is a devoted wife to an Episcopal Bishop who is trying mightily to raise money for a giant spectacle of a church. His major benefactor is a cranky, old, impossible, rich lady (me in a past life?) who makes Niven into a pussy-whipped puppy, instead of the idealistic, worshipful man he once was. Young, though never-complaining, has been neglected—and in pops Cary Grant (playing an Angel) who teaches Young, Niven, and everyone else he comes into contact with about possibilities, if only they open their heart. He, of course, gets his devilishly handsome little Angel heart broken as he falls in love with Young—poor Cary, what will he do? It does have a happy ending wherein everyone remembers the true spirit of life and love and the old benefactress’ blackened heart is morphed into a selfless one, love is rekindled between Niven and Young, and they live happy ever after, yada, yada, yada.
sat there tonight, as we joined a friend and her daughter for dinner, and I no longer felt so overwhelmed by the volume of stuff I have to do this week as I remembered that simple story. I’ve overcomplicated. It’s not really that hard. It’s not about the doing, it’s about the being. I’ve already got it all, baby—everything that’s important. But, that doesn’t mean I’m taking the Black & Decker Handisaw off my Christmas list.
Fill you mind with the meaningless stimuli of a world preoccupied with meaningless things, and it will not be easy to feel peace in your heart.
~ Marianne Williamson

 Published on: Dec 21, 2006

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