Honestly, I’m not nearly as cultured in my knowledge of Christmas as I’d like. I plan on reading up on this in the next year. Here’s some great resources that can teach all of us the amazing diversity of this wonderful holiday.
As a writer, and obsessed music addict, I can confidently say, words are my first love. Recently, I explained such an impact they’ve had through my lifetime, via Facebook.
Anyway, as a girl, I excessively wrote. It was my outlet. The pages understood. The stories and emotions I couldn’t carry. The anger and resentment, confusion, sadness.. Flooded the pages of locked journal, after notebook, after diary, and on.
Sometimes, I’d sit and reread the filled pages. I remember thanking God for getting me through so much tough stuff. I remember feeling my self- awareness and growth.
The majority of my abuse, came from my adoptive mother. There’d rarely been a time when I felt her approval. Honestly, even less were the times when I heard it… You say all parents are like that! Maybe.. but, this is mine .. And this is me.. As a Highly Sensitive Child.
Packed with days of writing, my childhood would, also, show you my love for music. The magic of words and melodies danced through my lonely days. They pulled me in, erasing everything else in my world. I could breathe again. I could understand myself. I could cry with relief. In those extended two and half minutes, I was free.
And the songs.. became me…
They and I fused into one single being.
Now that I’ve taken care of my mind; and, I’ve allowed myself to heal from some wounds, I listen differently.
I listen to the artist. I listen with empathy. I listen with an openness and compassion. The voices I hear, they’re people. They’re human beings. They cry, feel, hurt, and write.. Just like me. Except,.. They publish their innermost intimate thoughts out into existence.
They are people.. who voluntarily drop the protection and security.. leaving themselves vulnerable to the entire world. Can you imagine what they feel when they hear feedback from fans.. And it’s less than supportive…
To write is to leave a permanent piece of yourself in your path. To read.. And to listen…. It’s too be privileged in the receiving.. Because they’re not just words.
They’re life.. And they carry meaning.. In someone’s story.
This Christmas, listen between the nonsense and commercialization. Others are saying things that need to be heard. Songs are telling us what we may have lost sight.
Keep your heart open.. and allow the melodious holiday to free you, even if for a few minutes.
It’s been an adventure. Here is Miss Stella and Miss Glitter
Welcomed Back with little treats for Zivah & Calandra.
After that, these two ornery elfettes ended up in our Advent tree because ” The Floor is Lava “! It’s a game most kids are playing, these days.
After a weekend of quiet, these two sprung back up Sunday afternoon to a game of Elf twister. You’ve best believe that was a site! All kinds of hooting, hollaring, and carrying on. The girls returned home to witness the end result of that game.
While the house was quiet, the girls were at school, and these Elfettes were at it again. They knew Calandra was going to be a bit more excited to color; but, they had two copies of every sheet.
And then, we have this morning… Well… see for yourself 🤪🤪🙈 They are an unpredictable duo, I must say! They found my bows, and decided to ride the upside down Merry -Go- Round. Oh goodness, I forgot to tell you.. the girls found them sitting on the couch, on the phone with Santa!! Can you believe it?
These two are so delightful! My Calandra hasn’t stopped talking about them since they arrived! Zivah has been lovely surprised, too.
As the time draws near, never expect yourself, or anyone else to feel anything other than what is. Grief can’t be rushed. It shouldn’t be compressed or minimized for the sake of a holiday. What you feel is valid and truth. It’s real; and, it’s yours.
As expected, there maybe times when you’re overwhelmed by it. In such cases, there several coping strategies you can try. For example, step away from the agitation, crowd, or situation. Secondly, you can head home if you feel the need to be alone. Additionally, taking time to write can help you to hear yourself, evaluate your process, notice your patterns, and praise your progress.
With the same respect, the grieving journey is different for everyone. The consist truth; however, is life’s unpredictability. That said, there can and should be moments when you to feel something good, something light, something positive. Part of your healing is accepting; then, following through, with letting go. Letting go of guilt, regret, shame, and faulty responsibility begins your journey. Letting go of the past, the sadness that connects you with the past, and fear must follow.
I know Christmas triggers so many things in so many people. That breaks my heart; but, my hope is here for those who need it. Hope for a better – than – expected time with family. Hope for a genuine laugh out loud feeling. Hope for a warm and fuzzy feeling. Hope for a first kiss. Hope in enchanted snow coated lit trees. Hope in the vibrations of sung Oh Holy Night. Hope in the Synchronity of our universe; in God’s greater plan.
Where there is hope, there’s possibility. A night when two young people traveled, seeking shelter for a safe birth.. In uncertainty, hoping to find where they were meant to stop..
I enjoy a fun cell phone background. I figured, if I look at it as often as I do, I might as well be inspired… Or laugh.. Or smile. The internet is full of free wallpapers one can download and set as a background. I’ll supply several down below.
Two Elfs come to mind… One is the mischief,…. oh wait… they both are.. actually!
The Elf on the Shelf became apart of Christmas a few years ago. I didn’t jump on the bandwagon, as I usually don’t. Over the years, I’ve seen amazing and creative scenarios Mr Elf got himself into. To be honest, they’re quite comical. This year, I think I’m going to try and participate.
There’s a ton of ideas on Pinterest!
Then, we have this crazy fun loving elf. He reminds us of the unexpected joy that Christmas can be… If we let it. He shows us that stopping for a few minutes to see Santa, begins with allowing the child in us to live.
Let’s be honest, Santa can’t handle all the deliveries by himself.
Have you received an unexpected piece of mail, exactly at the moment you needed it?
It was warming, hopeful, and good. Wasn’t it? It made you smile or maybe cry, because someone invested into you and your wellbeing. Maybe, this mail started a ripple. You may have been the person that was called to pay “it” forward. You may be that person who, then, took the gift and gave it to someone else… Because it’s meant to be shared.
I am blessed to, frequently, expierence this random act of kindness. I’ve had days when I wanted to hide in the bathroom, and cry… But, the seven cards kept me on my feet.
Years ago, written correspondence was the only option between individuals. Someone would have to buy paper or material, buy ink and a pen. The procedure took quite some time. That allowed society time to consider and reflect on what a letter or card, postcard or note really meant.
In today’s world, of instantaneous technology, and constant motion, the habit of sending cards is a “craft”. It’s a concept that’s fallen into the “People still do that?” category.
Yes, indeed they do. These Facebook groups have been the source of light during the pandemic. They’ve been the encouragement for grieving children of elderly parents. These groups have sent love to those celebrating graduations and birthdays. These individuals shared in the joy of child births, and humility of Veterans Day.
So, you see, a card is more than some words, paper, and maybe stickers.
When you hold this in your hands, remember it’s everything you can’t see: love, time, investment, care.