I flounced cheerfully into the kitchen Sunday morning, preparing to go hide eggs outside, and ran into my housemate Shannon. We chatted about Easter and she said, “My friends and I kinda make fun of the holidays and aren’t even really sure about Jesus, but when the day comes, we still end up thinking we should go to church.”
I thought as I fitted pretzels, granola and cookies into the eggs and replied, “Well, it seems to me that all our cultural and religious holidays are based on older traditions and seasonal celebrations…so I don’t think it matters how it manifests or what form it takes. It’s all valid.”
Fill your hands with paradox again. I think there’s room at the party for Jesus, Ostara, Eostre, Krishna, Moses and Osiris. All stories are true and the particulars unimportant. Freyja leaps across the sky in the form of a brown hare, bestowing new life and rebirth to the earth below. On the ground we find the remnants of hatched eggs, and all the queendoms of the earth give testament to the day in flowers, fertility and new beginnings. It’s SPRING people! Let’s celebrate.
Plastic eggs…our most heinous purchase since our plastic-free pledge a year ago. We researched other options, didn’t find any, and in a moment of weakness I justified it by thinking we would use them her entire life and then pass them down as….heirlooms. Unfortunately, they don’t make ’em like they used to. They are flimsy and will probably only last a few years. One lesson here is to let go of older traditions that are not sustainable and replace them with similar, and even more playful, ones.
The bonnet and pinafore are from my childhood. Thanks for your foresight, Mom.
Mama put on an Easter frock too.
How she really felt about the bonnet.
Running after Peter Cottontail.