As we enter the holiday season, the mighty wheel is about to turn another revolution. Ahh, the holiday season. For some Buddhists, its that time of year where we feign a smile, and try and fit in as best as we can, while besieged by the news that the Lord has come. When I looked at my extended family (all Catholics), I can almost hear them saying, come on, you zealot, be a Christian again, for just one day, will ya? Its that glorious time of year again; a time to revisit the family dysfunction weve tried to forget, and the season known for its sharp increase of suicide, and drunken driving arrests. Joy to the world, and watch out for the pickpockets at the mall. Me, cynical? Actually, Im coping better with my attitude.

In truth, Christmas has always grated on my nerves for a variety of reasons. Born just five days after Christmas, friends and family concluded that I was a sourpuss. Just because people would forget my birthday and double up with their gift didnt bother me at all. Nice theory, but its not so. Some therapists out there might not agree. Every year I vow to lighten up and enjoy the holidays. In my fifties now, Ive mellowed a lot over the past few years. This year, I am determined to enjoy the occasion and have an esho funi Christmas not one where my bad attitude infects everything around me, but a holiday where I can spread some holiday cheer.

It all began with Santa. Who doesnt like Santa? Hes a merry old guy with magick dust and a pipe full of something he obviously got through customs. At six, when I figured out that he was a myth, I began to question everything just like a good future Buddhist should. The fact is that I really liked the Santa aspect of Christmas much more than the religious one. Let me explain.

Ive been a non-believer of Christianity since the age of awareness, perhaps four or five. Im not sure why I just didnt believe it. But Christmas was nice. We would go to church on Christmas Eve and after the service all the kids were given a basket of fruit and nuts, which smelled wonderful. Then of course, the following day there would be the obligatory presents, the grandparents, and lots of delicious food. Even in the 1950s there was a commercial aspect to Christmas, but nothing even close to what we have today.

One day, around ten years of age, I remember reading my King James Bible about the birth of Jesus and happened to find a small note in the reference section stating that with the adjustment from the old calendar to the new one, that Jesus was actually born in February. Hmmmmmm. If Jesus was born in February, then why were we celebrating his birth on December 25th? More doubt began to surface. As a teen, I continued my religious studies only to learn that around the 22nd of December was the Winter Solstice a pre-Christian religious celebration of extraordinary import, because it meant that each day thereafter the days would grow longer and that darkness of night would decrease. I concluded that the Church ripped off the celebration of the Winter Solstice and appropriated it to coincide with the birth of Jesus. Secular historians agree. Now thats good spin.

If Santa is a myth and Jesus was born in February, what the hell else were they lying about? Somewhere along the line, I stopped caring about that and let myself become appalled by our greed. As the years rolled by the emphasis on spending more and more for Christmas grew to the monstrosity it has become today. Each Thanksgiving I would brace myself for the inevitable onslaught of relentless advertising, driving home the message of spend, spend, spend. If it were up to retailers, I bet they would start advertising for Christmas the day after the fourth of July. I listen to the news and if the average citizen hasnt maxed out their credit cards the retail industry will be devastated and the whole economy might collapse. I wonder how Jesus would feel about his name being associated with the corporate bottom line? Didnt he kick some money changer ass outside the gates of the temple?

Each year its the same self-imposed ordeal for me. Not this year, I pray. Before, I chanted to be wise and accept the fact that I live in a predominantly Christian country and this is one of our customs. Christmas is supposed to be for kids, in my book. But with many children, there seems to be a level of expectation that is almost obscene. Ive seen children rip open packages to momentarily feast on the contents, and without so much as a thank you, search for the next gift and rip that one to shreds. Even though kids sometimes have a hard time showing appreciation in times of frenzy-- as a parent there is some enjoyment in getting your kid what they want. Ive tried to enjoy that part of gift giving and stifle the rest.

And yet, try as I might to enjoy myself, inevitably, some time before the 25th, I would snap. Usually it was the relentless television advertising that would send me over the edge. This year, it will be different. Yes, I have decided to forgo my traditional eye rolling and grouchy looks. If daimoku can change an old Christmas grouch like me, it can change anyone. So far its working, but Id better chant some more.

Happy Holidays from Samsara.