It is the season of so much nostalgia and tradition;
again. Funny how it creeps up on me
sooner and sooner each year. As I
contemplate Christmas this year, longings are the sugarplums that dance in my
head. It is the metaphor that continues
to capture me. Christmas, the holiday of
so much consumption, is also the holiday of reconnecting with those whom we
hold most dear. In a very cynical
analysis, this season of consumption that is so directed towards children,
teaches our young at the earliest and most tender age, that there is never
enough. We stir our children’s longings
for what they don’t or cannot have, and for what someone else determines they
most need, training within our babies, this sense of being incomplete, not good
enough. And, it seems that this feeling
of inadequacy, of not being or having enough, continues to be profoundly
familiar.
For me, I can count on having an awareness during the holiday
season of feeling that something relationally is missing. A relationship that didn’t materialize, or
maybe one that disappointed. It feels
quietly sad, and I hold it tenderly, within.
Others step up and fill the vacancy, and yet, there is a poignancy of
something not being quite right.
Longing, not always for material things, and yet Christmas places the
emphasis squarely on the material. Every year that passes I try to move away from
the consumptive part of the holiday, just a little. Yet, there remains a feeling of being empty
handed if I don’t have gifts wrapped up under the tree, or if there’s nothing
in hand as I show up at a festive gathering.
Am I enough? What do I have to
give? How can I sufficiently show my own
sensitivity and caring?
And, there’s also this amazing nostalgia that comes with
this the grand finale holiday that ends one year and begins another. I listen to the familiar songs, and
thoroughly enjoy the festive, cheery brightness they bring, never tiring of
them. I find myself wondering; do I
enjoy them so, because they are genuinely good music, or is it this soft
sentimental place within me that just wants to melt and feel the Peace, Love,
and Joy of the season? My heart weeps,
as I reminisce my own familiar longings.
My heart sings as I delight in gratitude for the loves that are mine and
always present. The tears and singing
join, and I appreciate that the longing and the gratitude intersect somewhere, where
the difference is so ill-defined, as to
disappear. The longing IS the love, and
without some degree of disappointment and loss, I would not feel its’ depth. The holidays bring our sentimental eager
vulnerable hearts to a place of great opening.
Here’s hoping that you find a place to share that opening with deep
gratitude. And, that any losses that are
felt are reminders of the greatness of your Love that is always present. May
the Peace, Joy, and Love of the Season be yours, Always. Donna
