A couple of my best-holy-days-ever happened this spring.
For a Bahá’í trying to take the day off from work or school, a holy day can sometimes be a lonely experience if it happens on some random weekday. We don’t have particular shrines to visit or rituals to undergo, spending the afternoon whiling away the hours inside a dark, damp, candle-lit house of worship, or singing ancient hymns. Instead we typically have to innovate. Sometimes the pressure is so strong to conform with society that Bahá’ís don’t bother to take their holy days off at all.
What’s worked for me is combining the day with a fun kid-friendly hike, preferably with the Ruhe family.
On March 21, which is the Bahá’í new year, and happened to fall on a Tuesday this year, we joined forces with Colin, Isaiah and Amman and trolloped our way through the paths and wooded areas of one of my favorite spots on the planet, Forest Park.
We gawked at geese, poked at pond ice, clowned for the camera and rolled down a big hill.
Enjoying much warmer weather on April 21, the first day of the festival of Ridván, and happily during a week of school spring vacation, we met up at Mt. Tom in Holyoke, and proceeded to wander around the mountain all day.
Colin has spoken often of enjoying “getting lost,” especially where he last lived, in Costa Rica, and with sizeable groups of kids, at that. One of his favorite tales is of a last-chance hike through the forests, a getting-lost trip, when they got so disoriented that he had to find a cell phone signal after more trekking and call for help as dusk settled.
He tells these stories while chuckling and obviously having thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Hiking with Colin lends itself to the same feeling: let’s get lost in the woods, and see if we can figure out where we are.
Our kids extended their pretend games from their last hike together, and we made our way to a run-down fortress-like building known as the Eeyrie. The view was amazing. Food was shared and stories exchanged.
Then we had to rush back down the mountain to make it to a community holy day observance in Amherst. Colin was responsible for bringing tuna fish sandwiches which he had not yet prepared. The sense of wandering mutated into that horrible feeling of “Oh no we’ll be late and everyone will be depending on us.” As it went, everything was fine, and we were only a few minutes behind schedule.
Another holy day came and went this past weekend. The prior evening, we’d spent another enjoyable time with more kids, this time with old buddies as well as making new friends.
The house we visited is in the countryside not far from our city—with a gorgeous big yard, a tree swing out front, and lots of perennials growing everywhere. We ate together and stayed up late.
The next day, since it was also Memorial Day here, we didn’t really feel like heading out for a hike. We were low-key: we delivered an old futon couch and frame to a friend who could use it. We gardened. We played an inaugural family game of Scrabble. We relaxed from a couple of busy days.
Thus ends the crazy spring-time run of Bahá’í holy days, when there are several packed together tightly. We won’t see another until early July. By then, school will be out, and our rhythms will have completely changed. River’s business will be prepping to unveil its slick new Web site. We’ll be spending most of our days at the local Bass Pond. I’ll have attended the UMass Media Giraffe Project conference, having found out if it helped me network or taught me anything new. My teacher brother will have made his move to Eugene, Oregon from Alamosa, Colorado, with his doctor wife and three kids—and they’ll be getting ready for a visit out here in August. It will be hot and green and summer.
