Christmas | Dare Boldly

Adorned in twinkling lights and festive charm, this angel on our tree is a heartfelt symbol uniting our family with the spirit of ‘Jackie,’ a tender reminder of love and memories shared. I purchased identical angels for my sister, Anne, as well as both my daughters to place on their trees.

This morning, as the sun rose on the day after an evening spent engaging in a cherished activity — making poppycock, I found myself enveloped in a blend of tradition and reflection. For several years now, my friend Jane, her daughter, my youngest daughter, and I have gathered to cook-up batches of this sugary popcorn delight. It’s an evening brimming with laughter, dance, off-key singing and the rhythmic sounds of popcorn popping and sugar melting and cautions to “Be careful. Don’t burn yourself,” as Jane pours the hot sugary mess into the giant bowl of popcorn I’m stirring as her daughtger C.J. turns it to ensure the popcorn is adequately covered in gooey sweetness.

In the corner of our family area, twinkling and sparkling with tiny white lights, our Christmas tree stood adorned in spearkling balls and glitter.

It almost didn’t.

When I awoke yesterday, a realization dawned on me. Among the myriad tasks of the festive season, one significant ritual remained undone – decorating our Christmas tree. This tradition, typically shared with our adult children, had been unexpectedly set aside on Friday night when we’d gathered for dinner and decorating the tree. Exhaustion and emotional drain from the past two weeks, along with the anticipation of my sister Jackie’s celebration of life the next day, had drained me of energy. In the midst of all that had happened and needed doing since she’d taken her last breath on November 24th, the act of decorating the tree, which for me symbolizes hope and rebirth during this season of light, felt discordant with my grieving heart.

However, something shifted within me yesterday morning. I knew the tree had to go up. Even if all I did was plug it in, it had to grace our poppycock festivities.

And then, as I assembled the tree and watched it come to life with its twinkling lights, a gentle whisper from within urged, “It’s time.”

Not just time to decorate the tree, but time… to allow grief to flow, to let sorrow make way for love, and to embrace the season’s promise without the yearning to turn back time to when Jackie’s calm, caring presence filled our lives.

This morning, amidst the remnants of our poppycock-making extravaganza, memories of Christmases past with Jackie and her husband Jim wafted through my mind. Their early arrivals (if dinner was for six I could count on them arriving for 5:30), Jackie’s famous mashed potatoes (always enough for 30, no matter the guest count), and her take-charge attitude in the kitchen are memories etched in my heart. The fact is, I shall miss grumbling under my breath about her bossing me around in my own kitchen and her countless reminders to check the mashed potatoes to make sure they’re not burning!

This Christmas, Jackie’s physical absence will be palpable. Jim will be spending his holiday with one of his daughters. Our gathering will be smaller, with 11 of us around the table. Yet, I know Jackie’s spirit – her generosity, kindness, and the love that never quite grasped my youngest daughter’s humour – will linger amongst us, filling the space where she once sat.

This Christmas will be unlike any other, a bittersweet symphony of memories and presence. It will be a celebration in honour of my sister as we build new memories. Memories that will be embued with Jackie’s reminders of the enduring power of kindness to touch hearts and illuminate the true essence of this season of light, hope, joy, and love.

It is that holy time of year again. A time when here in the northern hemisphere, we await the coming of the light after the long dark nights of winter. It is a time when the Christian world awaits with expectant breath the coming of a child. A time when fir trees are adorned with glistening lights and carolers sing out to passers-by and children smile at snow falling and presents piling up under the tree. It is a time to celebrate the sacred nature of our world, the miracle of life, the waning of darkness soon to become light.

This is a time for renewal, for pause, for welcoming in the light. It is a time to make room for gifts, the gift of life, the gift of love, peace, hope and joy.

It is a time to celebrate the human condition in all its manifestations here on earth. It is a time to celebrate the coming into being – of not just the Christ child, but of all of us.

This is a time of awakening. A time to make room for the spiritual aspects of our nature, the holy essence of our being human. It is a time to slow down, to live in the moment, to appreciate the small things of life unfolding in wonder every day. From the delicate light and warmth of a candle flame to the quiet stillness of the darkness just before the dawn, this is a time to prepare, to make ready, to enter into the anticipation of life coming into being and of light following the darkness.

In this time of waiting and awakening, I invite you to take a deep breath in. In. Out. Breathe. Let your eyes gently close. Let your jaw relax, the muscles of your face soften.

Breathe in. Feel the coolness of the air as it enters your body.

Breathe out. Feel the warmth of your breath as you exhale. Feel the air upon your skin, the softness of its caress.

Feel the world around you, growing quiet, settle into peacefulness and breathe.

Breathe.

Imagine you are standing beneath a star lit sky high upon a hill. Around you the world spreads out in the darkness. Above you a blanket of stars glitter in the velvety dark sky.

Imagine you are all alone yet connected to the millions of others who stand as you do, alone upon a hill beneath the star littered blanket of night.

Imagine, as you breathe in, they breathe out.

Imagine, as you breathe out, they breathe in.

Imagine you are all one breath, connected through this one air you share and breathe into, connected to the millions of others breathing with you. This air that nourishes your body, is the air that nourishes theirs.

And as you stand, breathing as one, you spread your arms wide, raise your face to the moon and stars above and whisper,

“I am here. I am willing. Let the night and the moon and the stars give way to what is to come. I am waiting for the light. In my waiting I open my heart to the beauty and the wonder unfolding all around me. I open my arms to receive the gifts of this season of peace, hope, love and joy. I am waiting.”

We are all waiting.

Together.

Let your body feel the peace, hope, love and joy of this wondrous time of year flowing all around and within you. Feel your heart soften, your breath deepen, your mind open wide.

Sit and breathe in the beauty all around, open your heart and mind and soul and body to receive the gifts of the Universe shimmering in the light of a million stars showering your heart in Love.

Breathe. And be one in joyous expectation of the coming of the light.

In this time of waiting, let Love be your companion. Let Love light your way. Let peace be your path from darkness into light.

Now Breathe. Quietly.

And in this moment of quiet, let a song arise within your heart and you wait patiently for the sun to return, for a child to be born.

Let us each be the light in the darkness awakening for all the world to know peace, hope, love and joy.

Namaste

Expectant Silence (An Advent Poem)

In expectant silence
the world awaits
the coming
of a child
heralding
a world
of peace
hope
love
and
joy.

In the quiet
of dawning light
I await
morning
streaming rose and gold
threads of glory
filling the sky
with the promise
of a new day
born in the darkness
of the night

silence descends
light enters

I feel
the breath of the Divine
rising up within me

awakening my soul
with fluttering wings
and with each breath

I become an oasis
of peace
hope
love
and
joy.