On the approach to Christmas, I usually suffer anxiety over gifting, confusion about who will be where and when and whether I am feeding throngs or a few, how clean the house really needs to be and other angst-laden planning. This year, however, for some reason, I feel much less anxiety and much more general appreciation for what will be. I am calmer about the next few weeks and feel thankful for whatever will transpire.
This year, Christmas will be new. Our cat, Max, seems to be improved after a run-in with the vet's searing instrument, my sister is recovering after surgery, our father edges closer to 96, my sons are hale and contented, our health is good. Somehow it just doesn't seem remotely plausible that I should do anything other than be thankful and enjoy these riches.
The world is a scary place fraught with problems, hatred, ugliness and indescribable beauty and generosity of spirit. I am privileged enough to live where I can hold some of that ugliness at bay and I can embrace the blessings in my life.
 |
| Father Christmas in St. Raphael, France |
The world is a scary place fraught with problems, hatred, ugliness and indescribable beauty and generosity of spirit. I am privileged enough to live where I can hold some of that ugliness at bay and I can embrace the blessings in my life.
No comments:
Post a Comment