It has been a difficult year. Anyone on the planet would have to agree. The list of creatives alone who have passed away seems longer than usual, and I’m not surprised they gave up the ghost, as they say. Which brings me to this word, spirit . . . I’m in my seventies. Growing up, we said Holy Ghost when speaking of the third person of the Trinity, and then Ghost was changed to “Spirit.” My Benedictine friends pray to the Father, Son, and to the Holy Spirit of Father-Son, to distinguish it from an actual entity. And then there’s the notion of “the spirit of an age” or, “the spirit of Christmas (not as entity, but traditionally, as a feeling of good will); or, the German, zeitgeist, defined as “the unique character of feeling of a particular period”). Essence qualifies. What, pray tell, is the essence of these times?
Humanity—and the Spirit, I suspect—groans as we embark on this new journey. As difficult as it is for immigrants to cast a last look back toward their homeland, so it will be for us. I fear we don’t know where we’re going, or, what we’re doing much of the time. Anne Lamott’s Halleluiah Anyway! pops into my head. Faith, trust, and love must will out. And, taking action. The spirit of the age is both subject and verb. Do something, I hear. Prayer is helpful but not enough. It is reserved for folks who can actually do little else, and we must be grateful for them. Prayer, like faith, is most effective in tandem with good works.
The essence, or “heart,” if you will, of this age seems to be wrapped, tied, and bundled in gasping discord. At play’s end of Romeo and Juliet, Prince Escalus pronounces, “And I, for winking at your discords too, have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punishèd . . . all are punishèd!”
We are passing through a tragic age. Winston Churchill quipped, “When you find yourself going through hell, don’t stop!” Biases run amok. We are fearful, deranged, and violent. War, famines, and weather extremes prevail. Everyone realizes this time is different, whether right, left, or indifferent. My husband and I weep during most episodes of CBS Sunday Morning, when the producers make a point of providing some positive, good news. I long for a holier spirit to animate mine and that of this coming age. An alchemy of wisdom and possibility.
Braeburn Croft 
Renee- I felt the need to tell you that I enjoy Braeburn Croft very,very much.Keep up the good work,please,pease,please. This year has been a busy time for the House of Sisler.Regina (my beautiful wife of 41 years) and I have continued our journey through real estate investments,selling one house,buying another (with a pool!), and buying a cabin in western North Carolina. Third move in four years-almost like the military-but not like having to move the first of every month when the rent comes due! Moving is always an adventure (as I’m sure you remember) but is as good a time to clean out and downsize as replacing carpet… As you can tell I’m not a great word monger-I tend to write like I speak with little regard for conventions. My daughter-Emily- and son-in-law – Zach are three years into their “homestead” in Cherokee County North Carolina outside the town of Murphy. They have 10 acres-about 60% pasture/field 40% wooded-with a pond (including fish!) on a gently sloping (for the mountains) hillside.The previous owners had operated a wildlife rescue there until old age claimed their ability to continue. Em & Zach didn’t continue that as the animals were gone and the facilities for housing them had regrettably fallen into disrepair. They do,however,have lots of wildlife around as the neighbors surrounding them don’t, and haven’t for years,allowed any hunting. Bringing the place back into proper order looms large as I know you can appreciate. We bought a small cabin “around the corner” from their place this fall.The plan is for us to permanently move in when we become too decrepit to remain in Pensacola on our own, and to move into the guest quarters they have built on their place when one of us needs constant care becoming too decrepit to stay around the corner… of course there is really no “corner” but you know what I mean. In a more somber note my sister Pat passed away from an aggressive form of cancer last November. It was 9 months from diagnosis until the end but she didn’t suffer severe effects until the last 5 weeks or so. I guess it could be said that as cancer goes it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. She was 83 and had lived a peaceful and quality life, which is the best I can say about anyones’ life. She passed secure in her faith and positive of her afterlife. We should all be so lucky. As I get older I find that my ability to build furniture-well everything actually-has slowed to a crawl but is still satisfying. My mental ability remains but the body has slowed-too many years spent on concrete floors of workplaces,too many motorcycle and race car escapades,too much hard living in my youth- and I’m very glad that it’s worked out this way as opposed to becoming a drooling idiot as so many do. This way I can continue to enjoy reading the works of friends-which I hope I can count you among. This has been a long ramble but I only do this every few years for anybody-this was your turn!
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