The Spirit of Christmas

The calendar day of Christmas is over.  I have heard many comments from different persons regarding the celebration of Christmas that have to do with shopping, special meals, going to church to watch a pageant about the birth of the Messiah, and even those who question why celebrate it on December 25^th since there is no evidence that it is the actual birth date of Jesus.

Beyond all of those events and thoughts, I love the excitement of this time of the year and I especially love being able to share these days with my family and friends. That is what Christmas is all about:  giving and receiving love to commemorate the greatest gift of love to humanity, the Son of God.

My personal quest for this season and all seasons is to focus on the spiritual meaning of the birth of the Son of God.  He came to bring peace, love, harmony, and hope for those who felt abandoned, unloved and hopeless, not only in December, but throughout the whole year.  It does not matter whether Jesus was born on December 25^th or not, let’s focus on the reason for that birth.

Others say Christmas is for children and perhaps they are right.  Even the Bible says that we need to be like children so we can inherit the kingdom of God (Luke 18: 16-17).  I say we were all children at one time, but we tend to forget what it was like to be naive and free of preconceived notions that hinder our joy. That is why I wrote the following poem:

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REMEMBRANCES

Sometimes I need to reconnect with my childhood.

It’s a longing that magically conjures images,

images that make me feel all warm & peaceful inside.

I close my eyes and there we are,

my sister, my brother, & me,

in our secret hallway closet playing house.

The tea sets, mini pots & pans, dolls and

blankets are all around us.

The minutes & hours tick on,

but we don’t care, those moments were timeless.

I don’t want to open my eyes,

life was so simple back then.

I close my eyes again and there we are,

my sister, my brother, & me,

in the sun filled backyard,

under the garden hose that Mom tied

to the clothesline.

We squeal & jump up & down

as the cool water sprays

our hot & sweaty little bodies.

I wish I didn’t have to open my eyes,

life was so sweet back then.

Sometimes I don’t need to close my eyes.

When I sit in front of my own Christmas tree,

alone, in a dark and hushed house,

I am mesmerized by the sparkling lights and

soothing aroma of pine that permeates the air.

I remember the Christmases of long ago,

I even taste the anticipation,

the excitement of Christmas morning.

I hear the squeals of delight for

the dollhouse, the Lionel train, the flirty eyes doll;

everything we wished for was there!

Life was so blissful back then.

It seems I cannot let go of those moments;

or is it that I don’t want to let go?

All I know is that there are times,

in the midst of my life so hurried,

when I need to go back, just for an instant,

to recapture and relive

the simple, sweet, & blissful times,

for the child that reveled in them is alive &

yearns to be reminded that life is still good.

                                                                                                

 Felicidades!

Friends and family,

I have decided to delay the next part of my story for one week.  In its place I am sharing a poem I wrote.  For many years I have been unlearning some life patterns that at times held me back.  The process has been long and still continues to evolve.

Let Me Live

Dear conscience, be my guide,

not my prison guard.

Show me the way,

point out what is right,

what is wrong,

then step aside,

let me decide

and take the risks of choices,

let me learn about consequences,

let me be me.

Dear conscience, don’t

cause me to feel guilty,

I need to feel free,

to not worry or fear;

I need to trust myself,

to find a place,

                                                  that appeases my quest,

          perhaps somewhere

between right & wrong.

Dear conscience, I’m not

asking you to leave,

I’m asking you to walk beside me.

Prod me, but don’t corral me;

be a gentle reminder,

respect my decisions.

I need to find my truth,

let me live my life.