these holy days

Maybe it’s the fact that so much of what it means to partake in the holidays is prescriptive. Or it could possibly be the declaration that shopping will bring us all closer together. Whatever the case, the holidays have always been one of those aspects to the year that could kind of like fly the coup. Ya know, not be here, and I’d be fine. And then there is the other side of me that loves receiving presents and giving them. Loves the cheer and the much-ado about whatever. It’s a bloody dichotomy, whatever way you flip it. I love to hate the holidays.

And this year is no different. I am spending the holiday season pretty much alone, I mean without my family, yet again. But this year I live in New York City, and everything is that much bigger. The sadness and the celebration, the shopping and the cheer. It’s quite a spectacle nonetheless. And I am so much more than I’ve ever been. Much more aware of myself. Much more in tune with what it is that I have and do not have. The latter, however, feels quite different than it has in the past. I am blessed to have what it is that I have. Which in turn makes me look at what I don’t have in a very different light, with new eyes.

I realize that every day is a holy day. There is so much for us to be blessed and thankful for. The roof over our heads, the meals on our plates, the love in our lives, and inside of our hearts. I have been dwelling there lately. In my heart. Sharing the gift of laughter and happiness with myself, and those around me. I hear the christmas songs, watch the pda and think about the possibilities; not the limitations. There are no limitations, there is only love. There is always love. And love will save the day, it always does during these holy days.