Are you ready for Christmas? I think I am, as ready as I can be given the fact that this isn't the easiest celebration to pull off every year. A snowstorm can sweep in and ruin everything. A simple cold can lay a person low. People we love may be missing this year.
This is always a bipolar time of year for me. I can be full of eager anticipation one day...empty, the next. With the approach of Christmas, we enter a time of irreconcilable contradictions and undeniable reminders of the dualities that coexist in our lives--joy and sorrow, poverty and wealth, war and peace, anticipation and dread, indulgence and denial. Good health and bad. Which, when you stop to think about it, feels so unfair.
The problem is that I have friends who are sick...so sick, in fact, that this could be the last Christmas they see. I have friends who are grieving. I know people who are lonely. Angry. Depressed.
And most likely, you do, too.
The holidays have a way of putting life's inevitable struggles into perspective. The bright lights and merry carols that the rest of us enjoy can dampen the spirits, deepen the grief, and aggravate the loneliness that so many feel at this time of the year.
I wish everyone could be happy and healthy at Christmastime. That everyone was at peace. That everyone had hope. It's hard to know what to do for those who don't. What good are presents when pain is the problem?
Which leads me to reflect on what I think would be helpful to me if the tables were turned:
If I were sick, if I were the one receiving chemo, or struggling against pain, I would want a friend at my side. Don't bother bringing me fuzzy pink slippers or bubble bath or a bouquet...unless, of course, it makes
you happy...in which case, bring it on! Even though it's your
presence I really need.
If I were grieving the loss of a loved one--my spouse, or one of my children, or my best friend--I would want you to sit at the kitchen table with me and share stories--the sweet, funny, important moments that we enjoyed with them. I'll make the tea. You bring the cookies.
If my house turned to rubble in a storm, or I lost my job, or my marriage went south, I would need you to hold me up, to cheer me on, to shelter me if it came to that. Don't say, "Call me if you need anything." I would need everything, and I wouldn't have the strength to pick up the phone. Just come. Sit. Stay.
One of the best presents we can give is exactly that--our presence. Our halting, not-sure-what-to-do-or-what-to-say presence. Our I'll-be-here-for-you-no-matter-what friendship. Our I-wish-I-could-do-more-for-you selves even though some of us may have been planning and preparing for weeks, now. Shopping. Baking. Wrapping. Tending. Caring. Hoping to make everyone happy...
...not that we have much control over it.
Still, if Christmas with your family is happy, loving, and peaceful, I wish you a merry one.
If not, I wish you hope. Courage. Friendship. Beauty. Time. Snow if you like it…sunshine if you don’t.
~What Gift Will I Give~
You have no idea how hard
I've looked for a gift to bring you.
Nothing seemed right.
What's the point of bringing
gold to the gold mine,
or water to the ocean.
Everything I came up with
was like taking spices to the Orient.
It's no good giving you my heart
and my soul because you already have these.
So I've brought you a mirror.
Look at yourself and remember me.
~Rumi~
jan
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