I’ve been working hard not to let things, people and situations squish my spirit. It’s so easy to fall prey to the negativity that lurks both outside and in during Christmas.
I find joy in this season. The preparation. The good secrets. The giggly anticipation. The confirmation of grateful faces and wishes fulfilled. The hope.
I steel myself with traditions we’ll continue and new ones we’ll begin. I simplify and create to avoid feelings of lack and temper the yearning for commercial crap. I light the room with hundreds of tiny twinkling lights, to gently usher in the cold nights. I wrap myself in an armor of cozy blankets by the warm fire, silently singing (loudly in my mind) to tune out the passive aggressive sounds that threaten my calm.
Yet often, the armor isn’t thick enough for the prickly conversation that judges with “kind curiosity.” The cold night slams into my world with minus 20 degree winds and wakes the calm night with the power of 500 watts of overhead lighting in my sleepy eyes.
The oneness I feel with my season disappears like the rings of smoke from the chimney.
Next season, I’ll need a heavier blanket and a louder silent song, apparently.