BAY RIDGE

USED BY PERMISSION BY Brian Merlis /Broklynpix.com

CHRISTMAS IN BROOKLYN©
BY JACK SCHIMMELMAN
 JACK_SCHIMMELMAN@GMAIL.COM

I lived in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn for close to 15 years. During that time I
worked at jobs in Manhattan, which began early in the morning and
found me coming home very late at night, around the midnight hour
sometimes later. Bay Ridge is a community of single-family homes,
mixed with small multi-family apartment buildings. I lived in the latter.
It is a working class/middle class neighborhood. People take pride in
their homes and present them as best as possible.

Each Christmas eve I would navigate the wishing hour that divides the
days. Snow is on the ground. All is quiet. The snow is pure. It is
during these moments when I can feel my essence breathe deeply
allowing a stream of harmony to wash over me. I stare with wonder at
the modest Christmas lights that my neighbors have managed to
create. In many windows I can see pine trees that have lovingly been
invited indoors adorned with an array of color, silver tinsel and
precious objects. Some are topped by angels, others by homegrown
images. These sights and sounds reassure me with their eternal
simplicity.

For several years a universal feeling ascended from my heart during

these late night, early morning Christmas strolls. I felt loved
unconditionally. On those pristine walks, I loved unconditionally. I can
only identify this feeling as Christ consciousness. Throughout my
decades of timeless struggle, I have periodically wondered how this
could happen to me. I am not an extraordinary person, but rather
someone who seeks those sacred moments of grace, but invariably
falls short. Anger has been a constant companion, although I have
managed to dissipate much of that discomfort along the way. I have
stood on shores hoping to catch a glimpse of the beacon for which I
yearn. So why has this profound feeling of peace embraced me each
Christmas. I believe that despite our prodigious attempts to deny
unconditional love that resides in each of us, its power is so great, so
magnificent, that we are all capable of moving to its music.

Some insist that the Christ consciousness comes only to those who are
“special.” I am here to tell you that it can come to the most
downtrodden, as well as the most socially powerful person. And when
it does arrive, totally unexpected, we are brought to our knees,
sometimes metaphorically and often actually. What is this Christ
consciousness? Is it only embodied in one historical figure, Jesus of
Nazareth? At the risk of angering those who believe devoutly in this
paradigm, I bear witness that the very nature of Christ is that it resides
in the DNA of us all. And when I say “us,” I not only speak of human
beings, but rather all manifestations of life. For that omnipotence is

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the very essence of unconditional love. It is the soul of all of life and
call it what you may, this essence is what I call God.

I believe by dint of massive yearning, the Christ consciousness is

summoned by our broken hearts, our elation, our lost soul, whomever
you may be during this Christmas spell. In a sense, it doesn’t even
matter if the historical Jesus was born during this period that we call
Christmas, for there is a lot of controversy regarding that belief. What
matters is that humanity has set aside a moment of time, a moment of
space when we may be available to that feeling of unconditional love
which alights the darkest soul. These moments are manifested
universally. It is the potential of such an experience that keeps many
of us moving forward, slowly, but relentlessly. I believe the Christ is
constantly evolving, eternally growing to embrace all of life in its
myriad of mysterious existence. We are not perfect. Perfection is
messy.

We live in times of great conflict; great horror. We kill each other

because of ideology. We dominate each other out of terror. We are
blind to an ever burgeoning cloud of tragedies whether it be human
trafficking of children, women, men, wars waged against the helpless,
manipulation of children to destroy themselves by dangling a greater
glory in front of their exhausted lives – the list is endless. I am sure
that you who read this can add to the roll call. And that is just what we
do to our own species, never mind our devotion to annihilating other
life forms in the name of self-preservation and pleasure. We can only
act in this manner because we deny our own divinity; we disavow our
place in the fabric of life. If one thread is destroyed or merely
damaged, then the entire cloth must adjust and suffer from dissonance
that plagues our hearts.

I exhale, fully emptied, to finally say that it is a fool’s folly to try to

separate ourselves from the other. We are each other. As Walt Kelly
(Pogo) once said:

There is no need to sally forth, for it remains true that

those things which make us human are, curiously
enough, always close at hand. Resolve then, that on
this very ground, with small flags waving and tiny
blasts of tiny trumpets, we have met the enemy, and
not only may he be ours, he may be us.

Merry Christmas.