For the Time Being...

There is a bit of an emptiness that follows the Christmas season, is there not? I have been feeling it this week.

I love how W. H. Auden expresses it so well in his poem - For the Time Being: Christmas Oratorio.  He intended to have it set to music by Benjamin Britten, but sadly, it never came to fruition. This is the final excerpt from the work - a narrative followed by the last chorus:

RECITATIVE:

Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree,
Putting the decorations back into their cardboard boxes --
Some have got broken -- and carrying them up to the attic.
The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school. There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed-up, for the rest of the week --
Not that we have much appetite, having drunk such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted -- quite unsuccessfully --
To love all of our relatives, and in general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away,
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long.
The Christmas Feast is already a fading memory,
And already the mind begins to be vaguely aware
Of an unpleasant whiff of apprehension at the thought
Of Lent and Good Friday which cannot, after all, now
Be very far off. But, for the time being, here we all are,
Back in the moderate Aristotelian city
Of darning and the Eight-Fifteen, where Euclid's geometry
And Newton's mechanics would account for our experience,
And the kitchen table exists because I scrub it.
It seems to have shrunk during the holidays. The streets
Are much narrower than we remembered; we had forgotten
The office was as depressing as this. To those who have seen
The Child, however dimly, however incredulously,
The Time Being is, in a sense, the most trying time of all.
For the innocent children who whispered so excitedly
Outside the locked door where they knew the presents to be
Grew up when it opened. Now, recollecting that moment
We can repress the joy, but the guilt remains conscious;
Remembering the stable where for once in our lives
Everything became a You and nothing was an It.
And craving the sensation but ignoring the cause,
We look round for something, no matter what, to inhibit
Our self-reflection, and the obvious thing for that purpose
Would be some great suffering. So, once we have met the Son,
We are tempted ever after to pray to the Father;
"Lead us into temptation and evil for our sake."
They will come, all right, don't worry; probably in a form
That we do not expect, and certainly with a force
More dreadful than we can imagine. In the meantime
There are bills to be paid, machines to keep in repair,
Irregular verbs to learn, the Time Being to redeem
From insignificance. The happy morning is over,
The night of agony still to come; the time is noon:
When the Spirit must practice his scales of rejoicing
Without even a hostile audience, and the Soul endure
A silence that is neither for nor against her faith
That God's Will will be done, That, in spite of her prayers,
God will cheat no one, not even the world of its triumph.

CHORUS:
He is the Way. Follow Him through the land of Unlikeliness;
You will see rare beasts, and have unique adventures. 

He is the Truth.
Seek Him in the Kingdom of Anxiety;
You will come to a great city that has expected your return for years. 

He is the Life.
Love Him in the World of the Flesh;
And at your marriage all its occasions shall dance for joy.

We've been enjoying one final, quiet week here at home with Mark before he starts back on the 13th to his responsibilities at Chestnut Hill College and we resume our more vigorous schedule.  

My Mom and Doug had to put down their sweet dog, Addie, this weekend.  She was practically still a puppy but she was struck with a rapidly spreading cancer.  My girls adore her, especially Claire.  Lucy's first word was "ball".  Her second word was "Addie".  They have multiple stuffed dogs that they sleep with each night and several of them are named "Addie".  She was a great dog.  We were glad to be able to spend her last full day with her and my Mom.  

I love this.  You'll notice Claire's "Addie" stuffed dog in the picture too.  She will be missed.  :(

 On Saturday Mark performed in a Memorial Concert for Samuel Hsu.  The concert was part of the Calvin J. Mathias Recital Series, organized by our favorite Cuban - Erikson Rojas.  The performance featured some of Dr. Hsu's students - Mark, Erikson, Tom Hong, Sung-ok Kwak and George Bowerman.  It was a lovely evening of remembering an incredible man and his legacy, and taking in the wonderful music being made.   This was one of the more relaxed and informal concerts I've been to.  That, paired with the incredible artistry of the performers made me feel as though I was in a 19th century salon type of gathering. Mark played Chopin's Noctunre in E flat Major. (It was the first piece Dr. Hsu assigned him when he began lessons with him as a 15 year old boy.)  It was exquisite.  I can't even begin to describe the beauty of this particular offering.  There was an incredible intimacy to his playing - a side of Mark that people rarely get to see. I am so glad to have been flung into this world of art. It is a wonderful thing to revel in the glory of God and the beauty of life.

This morning at church I was able to give my own musical offering.

We got our portraits done this week!  (Thanks, Aunt Alyssa, for the great Christmas dresses!)  We always go to portrait innovations.  It's a great deal - for $20 you get a ton of prints of a single pose.  If you want one, I'll be sure to get one to you.  Here is the pose we picked:

Here are some other shots which you an access on your own here if you want: