For so many years, I lived for this time of year as if it were the only thing that mattered in life. Every year, I started Christmas shopping in July . . . saved and scrimped to put as much under the tree as possible . . . plotted and planned surprises for my daughter and other members of my family . . . baked all kinds of cookies and had volumes of food for visitors on Christmas Day. I would exhaust myself in my efforts to make this holiday special and to create memories for my daughter that would last a lifetime.
Today, in the wake of family troubles that have left everyone that I ever loved estranged from me, I am alone on Christmas . . . for the first time that I can remember.
I am using this opportunity to remember Baba and His exhortation to make our spiritual lives more meaningful and less ritualistic. I have been celebrating this holiday in a traditional way for a long time, but it
never lost meaning for me. In fact, my favorite part of Christmas has always been that moment on Christmas Eve, when all of the packages are wrapped, and all the food is ready to be reheated in the morning, and everyone but me is in bed, and it's just me and the beautifully lit tree . . . sitting quietly together in prayer. It's the best part of Christmas. Just me and Baba, talking together as usual, and admiring our efforts in the name of people we love . . . needing nothing for ourselves but each other.
The sadness of my isolation this year cannot be denied. I'm troubled that my family rejects me, I am lonely for my daughter, and I am missing the usual hustle and bustle. But, as always, Baba is with me, smiling and patting my head. "Silly them," He says. "We know better, don't we dear?" And, today, I am putting my heart down at His altar . . . right next to my beautifully lit tree . . . and refusing to feel alone on my special day with Baba.
I'm reminded that Jesus was really born in April sometime, and that our Christmas traditions have grown out of Celtic and Anglo-Saxon solstice celebrations, and that holidays everywhere are a mishmash of cultures and traditions. There's nothing so inherently special about December 25th that it can't be looked at, reasonably, as just another day in life. Baba used this kind of thing to break down the egos of so many die-hard "religious types" among his followers . . . keeping most celebrations simple and avoiding any outward show for the sake of an audience. Funny to be an American, among all the Christmas lights and crowds, and to give up my usual display and expense of effort . . . but something I feel called to do this year, as painful as it feels.
Tonight, I will pray for peace in the world and light my candles. In Baba's name, I will rededicate myself to honest living and hope for a good future for all of us. As I gaze into my tree, which has always reminded me of the vast Universe full of twinkling stars, I will remember the beauty of simplicity and grace . . . that a Christmas cookie is really only a sweet, and not the only way to show love. In a time of world change and hardship, it's far more important to deal with life's honest lessons, and to let a hurting family spend some time alone to think about how they should
really treat each other,
every day.
God bless us, every one. Enjoy the holiday and be blessed. Amen.
