There are people that alchemize insecurities and fears, dreading the all too familiar power struggles at family gatherings.
I’ve listened to people for weeks before a major holiday celebration sharing the angst they feel, summoning up the pretense
To elicit an inescapable joy they feel others want to witness.
Polishing every emotional crack and crevice so the facade created hides the gnawing truth they would rather be somewhere else.
Sometimes that somewhere else is even outside of their own being, detached from familial memories of holidays gone awry.
Then there are those who have no family or home to go to.
They wait with intense anxiety for the day to pass, for a courage to be ignited that reminds them
That they too, are a valuable force contributing to humanity.
They reach for any semblance of worthiness in the hopes that they might be a flicker of a thought in someone else’s day.
Then there are people who don’t want to celebrate, as memories of a loved one gone too soon triggers a pain so deep
That cultivating happiness is a daunting feat.
And the others, the people who can’t wait to greet the smiles and hugs of friends and families they hold dear.
Of stories they might have missed along the way and a familial experience which captures their soul.
This complex matrix that we weave around holiday time.
There is no right or wrong way to celebrate.
Each one of us is entitled to our experience, to carry it and live with it.
What I do hope is that no matter which thread we are weaving, that we do find something to be grateful for.
I believe we can, and that we actually owe it to ourselves and the life that has brought us to where we are now to do so.
I am grateful for my life, and for all of you who are in it.
Warmly,
Laura