Happy Turkey Day

"Traditions are the guideposts driven deep in our subconscious minds. The most powerful ones are those we can't even describe and aren't even aware of." ~ Ellen Goodman

   When in doubt, tradition is the superego's compass, that divines the safest path. As we leave childhood behind, and become adults, we may not realize it - may even rebel against it - but there is in invisible print a guidebook for life, written by our mothers, fathers, grandparents, neighbors, teachers, and ancestors. It is known by the title of tradition, and whether you realize it or not, you've been reading it your entire life.
   It is a breezy day in October, and Jacob Kelly is climbing up a precariously shaky ladder, to reach the summit of his gabled roof. His wife steps into the front yard, and looks up to see him reaching awkwardly up to carefully place a weather-beaten scarecrow decoration on the apex of the A-frame house, and shouts to him. "What are you doing?" she asks.
   "Putting up the scarecrow," Jacob calls down. As the wind blows, the ladder sways dangerously.
   "All the way up there?" his wife asks, amazed by her husband's inexplicable daring.
   "Well yeah," he answers. As he begins to descend, his wife takes hold of the foot of the ladder and steadies it for him.
   "Why?" she asks at length, looking up at the treacherous ladder and the dizzyingly high scarecrow.
   "I dunno," he replies, "I guess because that's what my dad always did. We put him up there every year."
   Jacob's story is a familiar one. As old as the scarecrow itself, and older. Every year he, like many people, does things he doesn't understand, or even agree with, because they are 'what is done.' I think this is related to the imprinting instinct of 'lesser' animals, such as birds. We are naturally programmed to follow the lead our parents take, and because we love them and wish to preserve our memories of them, we imitate them in more ways than we are aware.
   Perhaps your mother loved to make lollipops with various bits of candy in them every Halloween, or your father built a fire in an otherwise unused fireplace every Christmas morning. Perhaps your family invariably threw a dinner party at the ancestral home every Thanksgiving. And you continue to do these things, for the sake of keeping alive the virtue of traditions - constance. Traditions have a way of embalming memories. If we do just one thing the same every month, or every year, or every holiday, that's one thing in this chaotic, kaleidoscopic path of life that will not change. One thing that may be relied upon - leaned upon. Somewhere to find comfort.
   This Thanksgiving I join a new family for a home-cooked meal, prepared with love and enjoyed in the comfort of a shared home. This is invaluably meaningful to me, because my entire life I have known such gatherings, and reveled in the familiarity they preserve.  Even away from my homeland I may be, this year I will be blessed with a much-missed reincarnation of that same tradition. How do you celebrate happy occasions? What traditions do you follow? What traditions do you remember even if you have not kept them alive? Ponder if you will the impact that traditions have had on your life this holiday season, readers, and be merry.