I’ve always loved and celebrated Christmas, even as a pantheist for the last fifteen years. For me, it’s mostly about the lights and all they represent. I think even as a little girl, the beautiful Christmas lights were my favorite thing, long before I even knew about Winter Solstice. I love the twinkling lights that adorn trees and buildings and rooftops, white like stars or multicolored that remind me of my childhood, the flickering candlelight accompanied by scents like Christmas cookie and orange/cranberry, the glow of a fire, and the dark winter skies filled with a million stars. Light may guide me and warm me physically, but it also warms my heart, makes me feel hopeful, connected to the universe and nature, to all of life itself, trees and stars, my own memories and the ancients telling their stories, the changing of the seasons and the return of the sun to longer days, the time in winter to nest in my cozy home by a fire and a light-filled tree, knowing that one day spring will come again and sleeping life will awaken. This season is a feast for all the senses, a time of hope and love, sharing and giving, family and friends, even reaching out to strangers, and maybe some of THAT light, too, that is told in the Christmas story and is born within our hearts, a story of birth and hope and love, will spread beyond us and our families and neighborhoods, spilling into next year and past geographical boundaries, and the world will be a kinder place. So I will celebrate Christmas and Winter Solstice with my family, even as the whole world celebrates as well, with love and music and food and gifts, in ways that have meaning for who I am today and the little girl I was a long time ago. Now I also have two little granddaughters to see through their eyes the “magic” that is Christmas as a child. But for me, it’s still mostly about the light(s).
Copyright (c) 2016 by Raindrop Ridge Press