Years ago, my brother told me about his special holiday gift to the universe, It is the same one he gives every year. Around mid-November, Jim moves slower, gets nicer and forgives all: enraged drivers, bitchy shoppers and the many other humans whose own personal “Alien” seems to rip from their chest this time of year to wreak havoc on those nearby.

        Jimbo.       

As a spiritual practice, it is one of the harder ones to adopt. Although relatively unruffled by a herd of yapping Chihuahuas, the gimme-gimme screams of tots can drive me nearly homicidal. But, like Jimbo, I try to smile a little more, complain a little less and count my blessings. Perhaps we should all remember the lines to that wonderful Christmas song by Tupac (or was it Notorious B.I.G.?): Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.