The kids returned from their dad’s last night.
While they were gone and in the ensuing quiet, I tried to, once again (for the umpteenth-time) pause and think more fully on what Christmas means and how we celebrate, as a family and as a society. There is so much noise in the weeks leading up to December 25th, it takes intent to find the quiet.
I’ve thought on this a lot over the years, and written about it before. I’ve also written about how, despite setting your heart upon it, it can still be so hard to follow through on your convictions – there is so much pressure from society to make the holidays ‘perfect’. (sidenote: I’ve noticed a new twist to the pressure — to make it appear perfectly ‘simple’. Thanks, Pinterest.)
But, despite my fears and anxieties, I think (–fingers crossed–) we do a good job of staying true to ourselves and making the season meaningful.
I believe that, in its purest form, Christmas is a beautiful time of year. It is a holy season that deserves celebration, without all the trappings that weigh us down and leave us feeling anything but uplifted and refilled after the decorations are cleaned up and packed away.
Some of my post-December 25th-Christmas ponderings:
Why do we let certain people know that they are special to us only in December, in the form of the mass-mailing of cards? If they are special enough to send a card to at Christmas, in this age of Facebook, why not send a card to them in May, instead. Wouldn’t that be more special?
Why is Christmas all about leading up to one day of celebration, rather than creating a Spirit in our hearts, that lasts throughout the year? Why can’t we put up a tree in July, and celebrate Christmas then?
Why do we put so much emphasis on what a ‘perfect’ Christmas looks/smells/sounds like?
Why do we struggle with the feeling that the day/season is ruined if __________________ (— fill in the blank — a person, food, gift, weather advisory etc) is missing?
How do Christmas lights still manage to become a tangled mess just from sitting in a box all year?