What's Your Holiday Emotional Temp?

This is the time of year that my youngest daughter lives for. She loves the snow, doesn’t mind the cold, has no problem wearing long underwear under her jeans and as of today has changed both her and my phone to have Christmas backgrounds and ring-tones. I am coming off of a most disappointing Thanksgiving, which I spent alone in bed, sick, while my family feasted on Megan’s amazing cooking. I had no clue she was using the expensive organic, US based apple juice for brining the turkey, but I did have a clue the dinner was going to be spectacular. She has a gift for the holidays. Her love for this time of year is infectious, and to be blunt, in complete contrast to my, “Oh where has summer and daylight gone, and damn it’s cold, attitude.” 

In trying to defend myself, I said to her a couple of weeks ago, “But hey, I gave you guys great Christmases, a nice tree, presents even when I was strapped for cash.” Her reply, “But mom, you didn’t enjoy it, you weren’t happy or excited, it’s not about the things, it’s about the feelings, and the magic of Christmas.” And you know what, she was right. I could again, become defensive, and say something like, “For Pete’s sake, I was a struggling single mom, I had every reason to be overwhelmed and tired and sad.” But I didn’t, I simply remembered back to my own childhood Christmases, where my mom was stressed out, and it wasn’t really fun or nice, even though we had ‘everything.’ One of my best holiday time memories, was actually on Christmas eve day, going ice skating with my older brothers, when my mom was exasperated and chased us out of the house. 

And so, I share this with you on the day after Thanksgiving, in order to ask you, what are you feeling and expressing around this time of year? Because, you know, we don’t just pass down traditions and stuff, but we pass down our feelings, too. We pass down how we react, what we believe about life in general, and even rules around how happy we think it’s ok to be. This year, I’m shifting, from sweet Pete, it’s cold, to wow, how lovely are the stars in the long night sky. I’m shifting to smelling hot cider, to being grateful for the simple things, and the most important things, like a daughter who in spite of my harried feelings was able to hang onto her simple delight in this most wonderful time of the year. 

P.S. Megan brought me home a plate, and Kathleen posted pictures and so I was able to see what a beautiful job my daughters did without me in creating a fabulous Thanksgiving for their dad, their grandmother, and their aunt (and their children). Kathleen hosted and her place looked beautiful. Erin & Andy picked up Megan, and then came back for the forgotten bacon (for the greens). Max made his cheesy garlic french bread. I missed the smell of turkey roasting, but was so warmed by the thought of my kids taking care of themselves and each other. Bravo. 

Sky Talk

we can talk in the language of the sky

you and I

when each day begins 

we can look to see 

if there are clouds

low or high

far or nearby

and in the afternoon

we can look to see where the sun is

if dark will come later or soon

we can look to see

if the night will be cool

rain or dry

you and I 

in the twilight

we can muse about

how the trees look different

in this different light

how shadows play

on the streets

on our faces turning lovers into strangers

in the night time when the lights are low

and in the heavens orbs and stars glow

we can wonder we are still together

smile at the thought

as the moon emerges high

what will the sky bring tomorrow for 

you and I  

Lantern Walk

Lantern Walk: Keeping the spark alive within when it is cold outside. 

A couple of weeks ago now (the time is really flying by way too quickly), I took a night off of seeing clients, and went to a lantern walk for my granddaughter’s preschool. We joke about it being a hippie preschool (more connective than competitive) and it is in a little house where they sing and bake and create community with 3 and 4 year olds. Audrey likes going, and for Erin it is a break from mostly full-time mothering. 

For this particular twilight activity; the children had made their own decoupage and tissue paper (and lined with non-flammable tape) lanterns. They were beautiful. The lake where we were gathering was not far from Erin and Andy and Audrey’s house, and so we (Megan and I) all drove there together. It was sweet to see the parents and children pile out of cars, hats and gloves on, and walk toward the edge of the lake. It was a chilly night, in between warm autumn days and cold fall nights. One of the preschool teachers was giving out pumpkin muffins (delicious), and the other was preparing to tell a story with a backdrop of sunset and reeds. 

As the story began, I was taken in by the simplicity of the story, (of the sun giving fire to man to keep warm with through the dark winter) and by the beauty of this woman’s voice in the still of the evening. The children were enraptured by the storytelling and I felt connected to all the people who ever listened to stories with the sky overhead and the wind on my face. Such a simple reminder, to keep the spark alive when it is cold outside. How to do this? 

After the story, the lanterns were lit with votive candles inside. They sang their lovely lantern song and we began to walk the walking path. When the wind would blow out a child’s lantern, someone nearby had a lighter to light it again. There we were, walking with our children, for me, walking with my daughters, my soon to be son-in-law, and my precious granddaughter, this keeps me warm inside. This keeps my lantern lit, knowing that I am a part of a family, knowing that there is safety and warmth and love and support. Having someone come up on the walk and offer you more muffins made it enchanting. Keeping rituals keeps us grounded. 

I get cold easily, and so towards the end, I was the first to leave the walk for the warmth of my car, and to sit in the quiet. I want to remember this all, I want to have more time for stories told outside, for walks outside, for a slower pace. Winter is coming, and I need to make sure to keep my lantern lit until May.