I don't need certain clothes, toys, material things to be happy. And I don't need to spend precious creative energy attempting to be something that I'm not. I also am not singly responsible for making Christmas come true for all the people I love. I don't need to make something for every last person I come into contact with. The pressure I place on myself to provide holiday cheer has an ironic way of taking the joy out of everything. My job is to be present...and my gift is to love.
This first weekend of Advent was filled with gifts. A gathering of friends from college..us girls were all roommates off campus at U. Maine Orono and a few special male friends joined us at a pizza place in Bangor. Sue and Michael were stateside from Wonthaggi Australia for a visit to Sue's mom who is recovering from a bad fall, like mine. Two friends had lost their Dads just this summer. But what a group of laughing, delighted souls who were happy just to bask in each others presence. "So This Is Christmas" played like a refrain in my brain. Even though Stephen had met these folks only recently, there was a feeling of ancient familiarity. What is this feeling of gathered family among people that created their first bond back in the 1970s? Why has so much time slipped by without tending to these precious connections? I went back to be present in Bangor with my old friends to realize that when I left them in 1973, I was making a huge mistake. I was following a romance that led me into a 10 year black hole that I had to crawl out of...like falling for the machinations of a Christmas machine instead of the true spirit of love and rebirth. This past weekend I laughed my way into awareness. The glorious gift of reconnection is like a weaving of thread...our stories creating a fabric and somehow our shared love for each other managed to bridge any gaps of divergent thinking. We could all differ in our political or religious approaches but what held us together in a bubble of joy at that table was our love for each other and that is the kind of weaving that holds families together. Who cares about the externals? The trappings and shiny paper that wraps things up in glittery beauty but has no thought for the killing of the trees? Who cares about that new hi-tech doodad or that 60 inch TV? I'm so grateful not to be one of those poor sad souls who bloodied someone's face for fear of not grabbing that desired item on Black Friday. I realize I have the luxury of truly letting go because my children are grown and as a family, we have been pruning our traditions for years. I hope I didn't set my boys up with impossible materialistic expectations for a joyous holiday season when what really satisfies is the small everyday miracle of making ends meet and having time to love the people who are really important in your life. I am deeply grateful for the "Festival Of Lights"...and though we didn't attend the parade or the tree lighting...we had our own ole fashioned holiday table where everyone was alight and everyone was a present and their presence was THE GIFT. So if the photo here resembles just a bunch of friends sitting at a table eating pizza, then you are obviously just looking at the surface. What you are actually seeing is a beautiful tree burning fairy lights of love and decorated with the stories writ from the fabric of our lives. As we shared shots of tequila and hovered at the doorway to our adult lives in the 70s, we now drink red wine and hover at the threshold of our years as elders. May our laughter guide us through the portal and shape our later years with love, health and a few more precious visits...maybe even one down-under.
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