Life wasn’t designed to conform to a strict holiday schedule.
Somehow, someday, everyone who lives long enough will hit a rough year, and maybe this was one of those years for you. You might…for very good reasons…be feeling sad or lonely, uncertain or frightened, angry or bitter, overwhelmed or numb, and I’d just like to say that if you are, whatever you’re going through and however long it lasts, you’re still just as welcome in this Season of Miracles-That-Come-In-The-Night as everybody else. In fact, maybe even more so.
Because feeling low doesn’t mean there’s not still gratitude or appreciation, wonder or love, lying underneath. It just means that those things are buried and resting temporarily, like a landscape hidden beneath a mantle of snow. They’re down there waiting patiently while winter does its different yet equally important job.
I guess this is one of those holiday seasons for me. The last year held a variety of hits and scares that were tough for me to navigate and, while none were catastrophic and all will eventually work themselves through, the cumulative effect evidently took a lot more out of me than I realized. This is the first Christmas since 1995 that I haven’t written my annual Thoughts From The Yuletide letter to slip in with our Christmas cards because, with all the good will in the world, I just couldn’t burrow down to where my hope and light are usually cached. (And I wasn’t about to send out the crap I was digging through to get there.)
So, since the main bulk of my twinkling words remained out of reach this year, I thought I’d borrow somebody else’s instead (along with music and breathtaking photography.) Because whether I can currently reach it or not, this is what always lives in the deepest place inside me, and it’s what I always wish most for you, too:
copyright Dia Osborn 2011