Festivals as sustenance

(Posted by Himanee)

Today marks the eighth anniversary of my marriage to my husband Jim. We married later in life -- I, at age 42, and he, at 32. For that reason perhaps, the ritual of our anniversary is marked less with flowers, chocolate, and expensive gifts and more with jokes and mock sighs of relief that we've managed to hold it all together for this long. This year's joke was about how all the blisters of the past eight years had finally healed, a point that Jim and I discussed animatedly as we devoured our anniversary dinner.

Dinner was homemade risotto, though I splurged a little and bought pine nuts, dried porcini mushrooms, and a finely grated pecorino cheese to go along with the butternut squash, tomatoes, onions, garlic, and bok choy from our garden that I tossed in.

Our anniversary also marks the official beginning in our household of seven months of non-stop holidays. One of the advantages of being an interracial and religiously pluralistic couple is that the plethora of festivals that accompany the multitude of cultural and religious traditions that comprise our partnership give us a lot of excuses to celebrate. Following our wedding anniversary is Diwali and a slew of related festival days around it. After that (or sometimes before, depending on the vagaries of the Lunar calendar) come Hallowe'en, El Dia de Los Muertos, my birthday, the Muslim festival Idh-al-Fitr, Veteran's Day, Thanksgiving, the day after Thanksgiving, all the Advent Sundays, all the days of Hanukkah, the Winter Solstice, Christmas Eve, Christmas, the days of Kwanzaa, Boxing Day, New Year's Eve, New Year's Day, Martin Luther King Jr. Day, Jim's birthday, Mardi Gras and the beginning of Lent, all the days of Lent, Valentine's Day, President's Day, St. Patrick's Day, the Spring Equinox, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter. I am thinking of adding Passover to our list of observances as well as Ramadan. For now, however, October through April has evolved into a series of celebrations.

It strikes me that the festivals begin as the fall harvest season is nearing its final stages and that they end just as spring planting season starts to really rev up. It also strikes me that festivals offer another way to build sustainability into one's daily life, not so much because of an urge to rush to party after party but more because they offer an excuse to slow down. Celebrations need not be elaborate or fancy. A memorable meal, a goofy handmade gift, or simply a small ritual such as leaving a lamp burning all night in one's home on the night of Diwali to guide the Hindu epic hero-god Ram out of the forest and back to his kingdom can re-create a festive spirit by themselves. More to the point, the festivals are like markers on a calendar, reminding you that e-mail can be closed, work can be curtailed, and one can go home on time (or even early) because an important event is waiting.

My mother and my sisters all observe a Hindu festival that occurs four days after the full moon that precedes Diwali known as Kaurva Chaat. During this festival, married women fast for the health and longevity of their husbands. Chauvinism aside, I joined them in observing the fast on the first Kaurva Chaat that followed my marriage. I haven't done so since, partly because my husband doesn't want me to fast at a time of year when teaching and other work demands tend to come thick and fast. What I remembered most about the festival, however, was not the fast but the gaiety that fills the day. You're supposed to wear bright, happy colors; paint, draw, or create something pretty; and prepare a meal that breaks the fast of several flavorful and wholesome dishes. You're also supposed to be on watch for the moon. Its appearance signals the moment that one breaks the fast. The happiness of the event breaks up the day, giving one a reason to get up from the computer for a creative break. While I probably will not fast, I look forward to doing something special on that day, for no other reason.

Festivals also follow different rhythms of time, and getting on their cycle can help put the grind of the work week and endless mountain of work into a different perspective. It seems appropriate in this sense that they occur in the interim period between harvesting and planting when lands rest and recover. They offer a reason to slow down, to celebrate successes, and reflect on the strengths of one's prior progress, and to consider how one might work better, more smartly before planting the seeds for the next harvest cycle.