End of the Jedi

The end of year holiday season always brings a bustle of activity. Parties, shopping, travel, family, decorating, baking, eating, drinking...

It's quite the whirlwind, even for the most grounded of people. And being grounded is not something I'm usually accused of. Even though I've been working on simplifying my life, I did not quite escape the frenzy. However, as I found myself whisked about here and there between the currents of traditions, obligations, and nostalgia, I was somehow able to maintain a sense of calm through it all.

One of the highlights for me from the past couple of weeks was seeing the new Star Wars movie - The Last Jedi. In listening to bits of the soundtrack, I stumbled upon a young composer who writes his own music in the style of various popular culture themes. This poignant piano piece touches that calm, soft place within that is perhaps what allows us to find guiding stars in the swirling night: End of the Jedi by Lucas King.

I met with a few friends at the new Alamo Drafthouse. I had never been to one of these movie houses before, and I was looking forward to being served a dram directly at my seat while I watched the story of the Resistance unfold.

The theatre was bedecked appropriately with a blow-up R2D2 and Darth Vader and a Christmas tree covered in various Star Wars themed ornaments with several mini light sabers, to boot. There were also several fans dressed in various costumes milling about.

I had read the menu ahead of time and was excited to enjoy the company of a good ol' Islay - Oban 14. When we originally met I knew that nothing significant would come of it, but it was good to reconnect with him -  a stout and smoky lad. The lights went down before I had a chance to snap a picture, but he was a warm and delightful companion to watch the movie with.

A couple of days later, it was time for Potter's Craft Cider's annual Wassail. This event is a young tradition that I am proud to have been a part of since its creation, four years ago. In past years it has been very rainy, but this year the sun was shining and the skies were clear. It was cold, but more brisk than bitter - the perfect weather to enjoy the last bit of autumn with the fresh scent of apples and cider drifting in the air.

  

This perfect day was made more so by the delicious food provided by Bo Hatchet Catering. This was my first time trying their food, and I was thoroughly impressed. Their veggie option was butternut squash soup, topped with cream and roasted sage, and served with jalapeño corn bread. It was superb.

For drink, I opted to go with Potter's Craft Highland Cider, which is aged in VA distillery's Highland Malt Whisky barrels. Those barrels initially hold bourbon as it ages, then the sweet seasoned wood is filled with whisky brewed and distilled in Scotland, and finally the barrels give of themselves again to age the cider.

I sipped slowly, and contemplated the molecular level swirls of interactions - between whisky, wood, and cider. The sun began to set, and I found myself in one of those moments of calm. Grateful for the nourishing comfort food, the music, the friends, and the festivities - I marveled at the beauty of tradition and connection.


That same night was a work party that I wasn't exactly excited about attending, but I promised one of my coworkers that I'd introduce her to a Scotch. The menu wasn't extensive, but Glenlivet would be there. I knew he was a decent enough lad to enjoy a conversation with, and I thought he was also mild enough for a first timer.

The party was at Wild Wing Cafe and the kind waitress, Jeanie, obliged me by posing with the Scotch. She poured two drams and I brought one over to my friend. My friend took one small sip...and then walked the other way. She had no interest in him.

I sighed, remembering a phrase I often say: you don't develop a taste for whisky until the burn of your life makes the burn of the whisky pale in comparison. I wouldn't say she's had an easy life, but she is young yet and clearly not ready for the whisky.

I also drank a beer that night - Goodwood's Bourbon Barrel Stout. It was quite delicious, and again I thought of those currents that run between. I wondered if the barrel used to age the beer I was drinking then might have also crossed paths with any of the other spirits I'd had in the past days.

The next week things ramped up: to-do lists grew while the time passed quickly. Thankfully, life - as does nature - provides us up with opportunities for balance. As I swirled through the days and activities, I found myself tapping into a deeper rhythm. Like the eddies in rivers and rapids, the hectic pace of our days naturally will ebb and flow, and if we pay attention we can catch those little calm spots where sometimes the current stands still or even flows back.

There are respites built into the fabric of things, if only we decide to find them. 

I found one of these eddies at an impromptu meeting with another friend of mine. We stopped by BJ's, a new taphouse in town, and it turns out they had a Scotch I hadn't yet tried - Glenfiddich 14 - Bourbon Barrel Reserve. I also ended up running into another friend I hadn't seen in a while, completely randomly.

It reminded me of how we need to make space in our life for the hands of serendipity to reach us. It's not just for our sanity that we must find the eddies amongst the rapids, it's for our greater destinies. It's in the calm and gentle swirls of quiet moments with friends, with our thoughts, with our dreams - that's where we find the resources to leap back out into the fray and continue on our journeys.

Perhaps it was the influence of the season, but this Glen tasted a bit like Christmas to me. The smoke and spice were there, but also a bit of salt or brine, and a hint of pine. 

The next day I traveled back home. I found that even the time spent there, while generally hectic and overwhelming, did not seem to unsettle me as much as it usually did. In fact, I had a wonderful time seeing family and friends, filled with laughter and love.

On Christmas morning I was surprised and warmed by the sight of Talisker Storm under the tree - he had come home to me, and I was so happy to see him.

Perhaps it is the impending end of the year or perhaps it is the poignancy of traditions, in general. But it seems there are pauses and moments that want us to find them. Those little safe havens amidst the rapids of life that we long for - somehow also seem to long for us. Don't deny those moments, because then you deny yourself, as well. Go to them, take a bottle of your favorite dram, and rest in those spaces before heading out into the rapids of life again.