***WARNING*** I was going to post this before Christmas obviously, then I didn’t, and then I decided, what the HECK, it was a good idea, and I was going to post something about people not being into the spirit because they think it’s all commercial or doesn’t really reflect the holiday anymore or hey, this whole Christmas thing is a load of crap and was just a way for Christians to assimilate a Pagan holiday. Instead, please read it as a momentary meditation, unfinished and wistful.
It is 2pm on December 22nd. Christmas is almost here, and this year I decided I was going to enjoy it, damnit! for the past 6 years I have been bogged down with school work and classes, and even living at home for the last two years with ALL of the decorating we do I had a hard time finding the Christmas spirit. Still, when school was done I decided I would set that all aside and enjoy the gentle-loving-warmy-goodness of Christmas with my family.
I still believe in magic.
Yes, I just said that.
It’s a hopeful belief, one that completely understands reality but still hopes that somewhere the fantastical does occur. I love the wonderment of Christmas, and even though I am not what you would call a religious person, I feel that I’ve had a glimpse of what the experience this holiday is for people who are. The weight of meaning paired with the flight of spirit that happens as you sit at Midnight Mass, listening and singing to music so much older and still relevant. The story that is told, that has been told for over 2,000 years, an oral tradition that is carried on because we humans can still find the excitement in TELLING a story, without explosions, CGI, or a handsome hero brought to you by Coca-Cola and Target. But mostly, I have come to enjoy more than anything else the time that I get to spend with family and friends: that moment of calm, quiet reflection, the hush over the room that happens, and everything slows down, even if it’s only in my head, and my heart just wants to burst with happiness. I am loved.