I am a very late starter when it comes to getting fully invested in the holiday spirit. Perhaps it is my over-reaction to the commercialism inherent in the season, or maybe it happens that, by being a bit of a purist about symbols, I miss out on some of the standard traditions, because I have made it my tradition to wait till the spirit hits me in full. With only a few days to go, I can honestly say I find myself still waiting for the personal epiphany that is now absolutely necessary that sends me into a mad shopping-tree trimming-yuletide singing-tear wiping under the mistletoe lover of all mankind.
If I was to chart the inner currents of how the ‘Happy Holidays’ works on my system, I would venture to say that it usually provokes 3 general reactions in me: grandiosity, sentimentality, and depression. Grandiosity, because it is a time to mark big dreams and bury stubborn grudges; sentimentality, because it easily evokes times past and hope for times ahead; and depression, because it is very rare that the ideal picture of harmony in my world that sits nestled in my head comes to be true. When the New Year begins, I generally feel a sense of relief along the lines of, “Whew, that was nice, but I am glad that it’s over!”
It shocks me that common symbols of the holidays have become tools of further division in certain hands, but I guess it makes sense when we witness consistent evidence, day after day, that almost nothing stands to be left alone as sacred anymore. I am not sure how the Christmas tree has become offensive to some people, and maybe there is a sinister message somewhere back in the tangled lights and carefully hung ornaments that I am missing. I know that trying to find working strands of lights each Christmas can bring out the worst in me.
One lesson I have learned these past few holidays is that it doesn’t matter how the traditions shake out in form, as long as you let God in enough to guide you to the holiness of the right moment. By traditions, I am referring to all of your family gathered around one table for a beautiful meal, presents being exchanged, the house nicely decorated, and so on. I have, in the past, foregone presents and family and the decorations, only to have the whole point of the holidays put on my heart in a way that will last me the whole year.
It has been in those still moments when I have found myself not getting the idealized holiday that I wanted so bad that I have most understood the true spirit of the season, which, to me, is to sit at one’s table and be a peaceful child of God, to commune with others in humble reflection of a deeper sense of purpose, to honor all who you have come in contact with along your journey, and to commit to Love as your guide.
