What's Up With Christmas?

Each year, same thing, the C word stresses me out. Tense body, reluctance in the heart, annoyed thoughts . . . I can't help it. And then the guilt from not joining the revelers' ranks. Shouldn't I rejoice? and be happy according to the numerous reminders in the ads, the aisles at the CVS drugstore, the blessings from my email contacts, the Christmas Carols on the radio? The forced joy of Christmas can be hard on the heart.

I tried to ignore the whole thing at first. No tree, no presents, no party planned. That was three weeks ago. Then, my oldest daughter asked if I had thought about the menu for Christmas Eve. The youngest one wanted to know what I wanted. Husband wondered about the guests list. Needless, to say, I gave in. Last Sunday, we drove around to several lots, in search of a not too tall tree, that could accommodate our living room and found out we were not the only ones to favor small specimens. A solution was found at the lot near our house, where attendant cut down a tree to fit our requirements. And gifted us with his sweet words: "My job is to make everyone happy". 

A place was made for the tree in the usual corner. Husband and I bickered some as we strived for the perfect straightness . . . Awareness guarded against lingering effects from our exchange, and I found joy in stringing the trees with a plain strand of lights. No clutter of ornaments this year. I aimed for pared down simplicity. The rustic Nativity scene made it on the hallway table, under Buddha's watchful gaze. And I remembered to hide the baby Jesus that was to be born at midnight exactly on the night of Christmas Eve. 

Nativity Scene and Buddha

Down the Christmas to-do list, I went. Making more lists, of gifts to be bought, or made, of guests to invite for Christmas Eve dinner, of dishes to be made, and groceries to be bought, of messes to be cleaned up, of linens to be laundered, of helpers to be enlisted in the kitchen . . . I figured, the more organized, the more chances for a peaceful event. This morning, the tree is lit up, Christmas music is playing, husband and daughter are cooking, many dishes already populate the counter, and ironed out tablecloths and napkins await on the dining room table. Getting ready for twenty two guests.

Sitting earlier this morning, I came home to the steady flow of breath, and the reassuring feel of the earth against feet, and blood coursing through joined hands. And felt immense gratitude for the gift of mindfulness.

What is your Christmas like? happy, sad, lonely, crowded, tense, calm, angry, reluctant, wishful . . . So many possible variations.

Being with the reality of Christmas.