Merry Christmas, X-mas, Dex-mas, Your mom-mas, Average Day-mas, Whatever-mas.
I admit, I’ve been a scrooge these past couple years. Depression did a number on me.
But this year, I’m feelin’ a lil’ bit magical.
If you’re having a crappy day today and don’t feel like being merry, then I won’t ask you to be merry. If you hate Christmas, then hate Christmas. I feel it. I’ve been there.
I’ve had a tumultuous relationship with holidays. I’ve gone through a lot of phases, where I resent people for their materialism and fleeting seasonal celebrations of concepts that we’d do best to hold in our hearts every day of the year.
After all, days and years. Those are made-up concepts. We invented that stuff, to make sense of our reality. So if we only focus on gratitude on Thanksgiving, we’re depriving ourselves of experiencing that graceful abundance the rest of the year, which doesn’t even inherently exist, because technically, right now is all that exists.
Don’t get me started on the origins of Thanksgiving right now. This is Christmas, after all. Stop distracting me, geez.
Anyway. Holidays exist, because humans need reminders. Checkpoints.
And humans need times to take a break from the routine, and celebrate.
So if your holidays aren’t reminding you of what’s important, and are so full of drama that you fail to relax and celebrate, you’re doing it wrong.
Of course it isn’t necessarily your fault if you’re not getting the most out of it. Interpersonal drama and family baggage, religious trauma and all the rest. These things are hard to avoid in our journeys through modern society.
But if you just stop. Breathe. Accept yourself. Forgive others. Let things be. Surrender to the moment. Savor each sensation, taste, and scent. Receive gracefully and give what you have available.
You might just feel the magic too. Even if you think X-mas is a crock of poo.
Also published on Medium.