Soaking Our Senses in the Best of the Season of Love

At Christmas, hope is reborn.

Image by tanja from Pixabay

Eek! I'm late today getting this out to you. It's been everything all at once this week.

You're not alone if your nerves are jangled with the approaching holiday. I struggle to keep all the balls in the air as Christmas draws closer. We are in week five of a two-week bathroom renovation, which only adds to the pre-Christmas frenzy.

Every year, I vow to resist consumer craziness. I've wanted to scale back on the doing and buying for a long time, but it always seems I need to do more. My family is growing, not shrinking, so downscaling will not happen.

I'm grateful to have a big family and love sharing Christmas gifts with them.

But I don't religiously participate in Christmas anymore, although I haven’t severed the ties culturally. I stopped practicing Catholicism 14 years ago and am in the process of determining what I genuinely understand and believe instead of what I was taught.

Deconstructing my faith takes time, and I’m in the thick of it. While my belief system is in flux, I consider what I should do with the Christmas season upon us.

Despite my disdain for its over-the-top commercialism, I’ve decided Christmas is still worth keeping, for, at a minimum, the fantastical light displays. The warmth and brightness of our neighborhood, illuminated during an incredibly dark time of year, is a boon to people suffering from seasonal affective disorder. With December's characteristically gray skies, the decorative lights inspire awe.

Another feast for the eyes—and nose— is Christmas pine with its woodsy smell (or its closest cousin--the pine-scented candle). Those, together with holly, garland, wreaths, and ornaments in festive colors, drench our senses in all the best ways.

The comfort food, sweet treats, and my favorite winter drink, eggnog, are tasty pleasures.

My mother used to make a German stollen recipe, which we would eat for breakfast with our coffee on Christmas morning. Stollen is the powdered sugar equivalent of American fruitcake but drier and less dense.

My mother is no longer around to make stollen, and I've since substituted Italian biscotti with my Christmas coffee. This year, I will try something new with regard to my favorite cookies: restraint! and I hope Santa drops some of that off early. If anything is my undoing, it will be eating too much of the white chocolate chip and walnut biscotti. The link to the recipe is at the bottom of this newsletter if you’d like to try them.

Oh, and let's remember something more integral to the season: the glorious music! Christmas carols evoke a sleigh full of nostalgia and joy. Here is a song that helps me absorb the vibes and sounds of the season.

Christmas douses all the senses, but its most significant impact is how it makes us feel. The idea that someone great can spring from a humble manger and have a worldwide impact inspires us to feel hope, even if it's just for one day. One person can change the world, no matter how humble their beginnings. That makes hope for peace and unity tangible in a world bent on war, violence, tribalism, and wealth.

I'm a few weeks early, but I will end this newsletter by wishing you all a Christmas filled with the people you love, joy, and the enduring spirit of love. Let's immerse ourselves in the season's beauty, gentleness, calm, and cookies. Alway cookies. Click here for the recipe.