Archives for posts with tag: Christmas

It’s almost Giftmas time! I admit to counting down the days like a kid, just as eager for Santa to come as if I didn’t know the factual truth of the holiday; we are Santa, as much as we each undertake to be. All around the US, kids are eagerly counting down the days until the holiday – however it is celebrated in their home (if it is). Parents, on the other hand, experience that countdown differently, and they may be counting down the days to the next payday, a little concerned about whether the dollars will stretch for another gift or two under the tree, or whether the lights will be on, or the heating bill paid. Right about this time of year, I’d often hear my Dad’s vexation come through as “If you birds don’t knock that shit off there won’t be any Christmas!” (And oh, damn, the tears that would be shed following that announcement!)

…Our tree often sat in a bucket on the porch, quite bare, until Giftmas Eve, when my Dad would set it up, and make certain it was quite upright with my Mother’s help (she would hang a plumb bob from some point on the stairs, such that my Dad could see it alongside the tree, to trim this or that branch, or adjust the screws in the base holding the tree,and some water for it). We’d all go to bed, passing by the fragrant bare tree standing in the livingroom, wondering if Santa would really come.

Making holidays magical.

I can’t even wrap my head around how my parents made holiday magic every year. They stayed up into the wee hours, decorating the tree together after we kids had gone to bed. They’d assemble things with “some assembly required”. Last minute gifts would be wrapped in secret. All the gifts previously purchased and wrapped would be pulled from their hiding places, and placed under the now-decorated tree. Empty stockings would be taken down from the mantle, filled, and as my parent’s finally went to bed (sometimes closer to 4 am than to 2 am), they would gently lay the stockings at the foot of each kid’s bed – a neat holiday touch that also bought them a little additional time to sleep, since we were allowed to open our stockings quietly and enjoy anything we found, so long as we did not wake them before 5 am. I’m fairly certain that some years, it was our excitement combined with the quiet sound of their bedroom door closing that woke us. Not a lot of sleep-in time in that scenario. lol But wow… the holiday magic was intense, and has lasted me a lifetime.

… I believed in a literal real Santa Claus until embarrassingly late in life, still convinced at 15, reluctantly accepting the truth at some point before I turned 17…

A modest tree, every ornament has history. What stories does your tree tell?

‘Tis the season, eh? How will you be making someone’s holiday bright? What twinkle lights will illuminate your hearth and home with a soft holiday glow in the wee hours of the night? What memories will you make, and carry into the dark nights of your future? What experiences will you share with those dear to you? I call it “Giftmas” instead of “Christmas”, but the holiday is still one that is more about presence than presents. (I do love the presents… but there’s more to it than that, by far.) For me this holiday is a celebration of love and community and getting through our darkest times together; it’s no coincidence that this holiday is so near to the Solstice. The nights are long, dark, and in many places very cold. Resources begin to run low. We rely on each other for our shared survival – this is a time for remembering that, and also celebrating it with a meaningful exchange of gifts. I mean… I think that’s what this holiday is about. That’s what it is for me.

I smile and face another work day. I’m counting down the days, now… 8 more to Giftmas Eve! Will Santa come? Will there be gifts under the tree? A tasty Giftmas morning brunch? A too-early celebration of the day, over coffee or cocktails, still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes? Will there be carols on the stereo? Harry Potter, Home Alone, Christmas Story, Scrooged, and the Grinch on video? A roast supper that seems more elegant with holiday decor in the background? Unexpected packages on the front step? Visits from friends or family? General merriment, the chaos of torn wrapping paper, and the sudden urge to nap before noon? I don’t know. Yes? I don’t build my expectations on any particular detail; I just enjoy the season as it is, all the options, all the challenges, all the choices, and these precious finite moments together – or in solitude. (No wrong answers; we’re each having our own experience, and I have enjoyed some memorable, beautiful Giftmas holidays alone.)

My mind wanders to another magical Giftmas; the first I shared with my Traveling Partner. (If I wasn’t sure I wanted to spend my life with this man before that first Giftmas holiday together, I was definitely certain afterward.) He made that holiday happen for us – for me. It was a gesture of pure love. We didn’t have the means, we had just moved into an apartment together that was double the rent either of us had been paying before. We made a frugal decision to “skip it this year” (no children to disappoint). It kind of bummed me out, but I was “being grown up about it”. Then that cold afternoon that I arrived home… to a small holiday tree, lit and if I’m recalling correctly, decorated. I was moved to happy tears. I’ve never forgotten that loving gesture. It’s one of my fondest Giftmas memories.

I sigh to myself and realize I am distracting myself from physical pain with holiday merriment. I mean… okay. Useful. Handy. I’m okay with it, but the work day is not going to complete itself, and it’s already time to begin again…

It’s a time of year I’m often thinking about presents, more than I am thinking about presence, but there are a lot of good reasons to pause for a moment and reflect on really simply being, in the moment I’m standing in. I sip my coffee a little vacantly; I’m slow to get things going this morning, and woke too early for no obvious reason. I’m feeling a little sluggish, and a lot distracted – only there’s nothing really going on “in here”. I’m just existing for a moment, a little inclined to wait it out for the next moment.

I watched a video (again) yesterday evening that really “speaks to me”. The topic is Ichigo Ichie, and it is about presence – being in the moment. I think about the idea of being present, and understanding each lived moment as an entirely unique, unrepeatable experience. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and sip my coffee thoughtfully, awake and aware, letting my senses fill up with this moment right here. I skipped my walk this morning. I have a painful headache and headlights sweeping across my eyes in the darkness was unpleasant, so I came directly to the office. It’s chilly in the office, somewhat unpleasantly so, but maybe it’s just me? The experience of ambient temperature can be such a subjective thing. I sit quietly with my thoughts and this moment for a little while.

…13 days until Giftmas. I’m not exactly counting down the days, but I’m aware of the holiday drawing near. There’s very little left to do about it, besides enjoy the moments. The weekend will come, and with it the final payday before the holiday. I’ll finish up small purchases for Giftmas stockings, and stock the pantry with favorite holiday treats. I remind myself to talk over the holiday meal with my Traveling Partner and figure out the menu for brunch on Giftmas morning. I smile thinking about it. There have been years of such tremendous struggle – this doesn’t feel like that, and I explore the feeling of quiet joy, and relative ease. There’s very little stress, and that feels very good. I let myself enjoy the awareness of the lack of stress – that seems like something worth savoring.

I think about my Dear Friend. It’s still quite odd to be enjoying the holiday season without her presence in the background of every activity and every moment of joy. I shared so much with her, I sometimes feel a little lost, as if standing on something very unsteady and having to find my balance. We shared so many Giftmases together over the years of our friendship – about 10 of those in person, for at least some portion of the Yule holiday season, and through conversation and email for all the rest that followed my break-up with my previous partner, who had been her son. It’s a strange path we each take through life. Quite an interesting journey, and I was fortunate to share so much of it with my Dear Friend. I’m not feeling tragic about it, this morning, just sitting with the wonders of holidays past, that we enjoyed together. I remember a particular holiday, trudging happily through sloppy streets, ankle deep in slush and snow, finishing the holiday shopping as I made my way to the train station to meet my Dear Friend. Some details stand out quite sharply (like the snow, and the cold, and the starry night), others much less so (was she traveling alone? Was I?). I smile and think about what matters most in life, and on this very human journey.

I sigh quietly, sipping my coffee, sitting with my thoughts in this moment right here. It’s a good moment. I feel connected and present, and ready to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee and taking in the slow gray dawn. No sunrise this morning. No glints of gold or peach off the last clinging autumn leaves. Just a homogeneous gray sky slowly lightening from a deep charcoal gray to a steely gray, and just now reaching a soft dove gray. My coffee is cold, from a can I took out of the refrigerator.  It’s a hell of a luxury – convenience generally is, though I tend not to notice very often.

Funny how conveniences can become a loss of good character and will over time, though, isn’t it? I’ve noticed that when I yield to convenience such that a particular convenience becomes habitual, I lose interest in making the effort that a task or experience once required without the conveniences. Huh. I gotta work on that; I see some very problematic potential outcomes of losing the will to exert effort for what I want. 🙂 If nothing else, it is autumn, heading towards winter, and I enjoy a hot cup of coffee. This will be the last can of cold brew for a while. There are fresh good quality coffee beans in the hopper of the burr grinder. Coffee mugs are clean. The kitchen itself, untidy after being sick, is at least ready for making coffee. lol I take another sip of this cold brew, and really take it in: the flavor, the coldness, the peculiar lack of depth or nuance to both the taste and fragrance – I mean, no surprise, it came out of a can, right? Fresh squeezed orange juice will always taste quite deliciously different from orange juice from a bottle or carton, right? Same here. Freshly ground, freshly and skillfully brewed coffee by its very nature tastes quite different from any can of cold brew – however convenient or tasty – ever could.

There’s a metaphor here, and I continue to sip this fairly nondescript, but wholly convenient, cup of coffee and consider the metaphor (and allegory) from many angles.

I look out the window. It has been some moments since the sky was a smooth wash of dove gray, and it is, now, taking on a hint of… something else. Not pink. Not peach. Not mauve. Not lavender. Some odd color I have no name for that sits somewhere in the junction of all of those. How strange. I sit quietly, just watching the sky, trying to name this color I see, but which is somehow unfamiliar and nameless. I take another sip of my coffee, which now seems entirely wrong for this moment. lol This is a summer coffee in an autumn moment, like a “wrong note” in a jazz solo; I wait for the next note to tie it all together. 🙂

I take a moment to appreciate the physical details of this moment, too. The heat came on. The thermostat is set for a comfortable 68 degrees, which seems “just right” for first thing in the morning. The air feels a bit dry in the house. My head isn’t stuffy this morning, though, and for the moment my fairly persistent headache is gone. I’m in no particular amount of pain – pain-free? Dare I notice and make the observation? Huh. It’s a nice start to a day I hope to spend decorating for Giftmas. 😀

My mind wanders thinking about Giftmas future, and Giftmas past. Those thoughts are also about the things in life I’ve kept along the way, and the things I have lost or left behind. It’s not an especially poignant moment, and feels more practical, and observant. It’s a journey, and as with most of the journeys I have taken in life, there’s only so much baggage I can lug along the way. Sometimes, it’s necessary to let things go. Hell – sometimes that is the very best next step that can be taken; let it go. Let this go. Let that go. Let the big deal go. Let the petty bullshit go. Walk on. Keep what works best. Keep what supports my intention most. Keep what lifts me up. Keep what lifts up others. Learn what works, practice that, and share it. Let the rest go. Like the last can of summer’s cold brew, savor the experience, drink it in, enjoy what qualities of value it can offer, learn from what isn’t so pleasant – let the rest go, like an emptied can of cold brew, into the recycling. 🙂

Today I’ll sort through memories and life lessons while I sort through fragile glass ornaments, placing each one “just so” to consider and enjoy, to ponder, to learn from. This is a season of self-reflection, and a season of change.