One of the greatest gifts of the Festive Season is that once it’s over, you don’t have to listen to bloody Christmas music again for almost another 6 months. Jeez, it's relentless.
Luckily for me I like Christmas, so I have a fairly high tolerance for it. But if this is a tricky time of year for you, you're screwed because it's everywhere. As soon as you put a foot outside your door you take the risk of stepping into Christmas, or rocking around the Christmas Tree, or jingling all the way.
Personally I have always had a problem with the Wizzard song “I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day.” Even when I was a kid, I knew that to be ridiculously impractical. Let's be frank here, Christmas every 12 months is pretty exhausting as it is.
Like I say, I do actually like Christmas, though I’ve always preferred Christmas Eve to Christmas Day -and no, I’m not even Scandinavian or even a bit German or Brazilian or any of those other Googleable places where people celebrate on Christmas Eve.
Here in Tweddley Manor, Christmas - with all its pajama-wearing, turkey-eating, present-opening chaos - is observed on December 25th.
But my favorite part of the whole festive season is that wee moment on Christmas Eve when the night is dark, and the house is still, and even though you know all about Santa, the thought comes into your head that something magical really might be in the air. Like a miracle might be possible. Even though it's completely ridiculous. Just this once.
That’s what I love. That one wee moment. It's worth all the noise and bustle and daft repetitive Christmas songs.
I like being an adult. I like choosing what I wear and what I eat for dinner and paying my own bills. I'm happy in my adult skin. But somewhere during the process of growing up, we learn to believe that looking on the dark side is more realistic. In adult life an unmitigated disaster can supposedly occur at any moment - but try and suggest that a miracle can, and people will assume you're either off your head on drugs, or properly have a screw loose.
And it's bollocks.
Because when I look back on life, yeah bad stuff did happen, but good stuff happened too. So it stands to reason that the future will likewise be a some combination of both.
But when you're a full-grown adult, ‘thinking about the future’ means wondering about how bad things can potentially get. And, honestly, I can deal with bad stuff. I have experience in that. What I could do with, is remembering to anticipate the good bits so I'm not distracted when they appear.
And then along comes Christmas Eve and that one wee moment of thought, where I connect to the idea that any minute now, something amazing might happen.
It's an irritating fact that inconveniently sorrow and joy do not adhere to any parts of the Gregorian Calendar, so though I do sincerely wish you a Happy Christmas, I also understand that it's not always that simple.
But tonight on Christmas Eve, when the sky is dark and the house is quiet, enjoy the moment of possibility. Maybe the dream you have might actually find a way to come true. Maybe all that seems so out of reach, might really be much closer than you think and just round the next wee corner.
And if a guy in a red suit climbs down your chimney or through your window, or tries in any way to get into your house, call the cops.
There's nothing wrong with being realistic.
Till next week
Xo
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