I have to say the holidays from Thanksgiving to New Year are my most favorite, but not just because of all the festivities. The family and food and wine and chocolate, and I love to give gifts. My mom is the most amazing seamstress and every year we create something for her to make. We give them as gifts; made by hand and imbued with our love. There is such sweetness in thinking of each person, what will bring a twinkle in their eye and a deep wrinkle-causing smile to their face.
That smile is what I love. For most of the year, getting my friends and family to smile like that seems harder than convincing Kim Jong Il to admit he’s been holding Elvis Presley hostage all these years. Seriously, life seems to be so full of busy this and busy that these days, we often don’t take the time to stop and smile from the depths of our soul, a smile so wide our eyes squint and we see the world just a little bit differently.
But something happens just after we take that first bite of Turkey. It’s like the Turkey (or maybe it’s stuffing, could be the stuffing) alters our DNA. It’s as if eating pumpkin pie (or any holiday pie) is the magic porthole that sucks us into another dimension where life is just…well…altered. I look around and everything appears to be softer, diffused, and just a little bit blurry, in a good way. All the worries of the year seem like a distant memory. And everyone is smiling like a Cheshire cat.
And just like Alice in her wonderland, I too have fallen down a rabbit hole, but this one is warm and fuzzy and full of love and all things good, and I have no desire to find my way out of it. I float about this new world where everything is made of candy canes and marshmallows and even as the snow falls, I still feel warm wrapped in my favorite winter scarf, that one I only seem to wear during the holidays.
The vibrations of love and joy wind upwards all the way to January 2nd where I wake up, and after surveying the empty champagne bottles and confetti, realize that somewhere in the night I transported back to reality. I see the pile of bills on the table by the door, the Christmas tree is looking dry and tired, and dust has collected in the nooks and crannies of my collection of Santa’s from around the world. And I know it’s time to put it all away for another year.
And for a while I feel sad. I miss my house filled with people, all laughing and singing, having too forgotten about their woes for a while. I miss the jolly feeling I carry with me, as if I’ve had just enough bubbly to make me float. My feet are firmly on the ground now, ready to face another year of busy this and busy that.
With each year that passes, I notice I’m less interested in the New Years resolutions. I’m less interested in creating vision boards I probably won’t live up to, and I know that life will creep up on me and chaos will ensue. I like it that way. I’ll dream a dream and go about bringing it to life; I need not make a list for that to occur, and dreaming and doing is what we humans do, after all. But as we embark on another year of living, I reflect back on the years I’ve already lived and I am happy with all my doing. For sure there is more I could do, more I should do and more I want to do, and I will, but underneath all of that, there is a smile as wide as Texas and this year I’ve decided not to put that smile away with the Christmas lights and the stockings. This year I intend to wear that smile all through the seasons. And when I begin to forget that feeling of warmth from the fire I sat by on Christmas Eve, when I lose site of the glow that shines from the holiday lights that herald the joyous season, I’ll put on my scarf, close my eyes and smile like a kid on Christmas morning.
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