What happens when you realize that Christmas just might not be “your” holiday anymore?

This question has been tumbling around in my head since mid-November, and I’ve begun to write about it half a dozen times, only to delete everything and close the computer in frustration.

It isn’t often that I find myself unable to put my thoughts into words, but this is one of those times. Have you ever had thoughts take root so deeply inside the recesses of your own mind that you can’t quite tell if they’re thoughts, or if they’re emotions…..or perhaps some amalgam of the two? They’re those thoughts that get in there, and are so tender, so fragile, so raw that you hesitate to share them, even if you could find the words?

That’s where I am with Christmas this year.

To be truly honest, I’ve felt a growing disconnect with Christmas for the past few years now.

Perhaps it’s because I’m no longer a Christian.

Perhaps it’s because I’ve been in ‘survival mode’ for so long.

Perhaps it’s because I’ve had a priority shift in my life.

Perhaps it’s because I’m simply not the person I was eight Christmases ago when I ran my last Christmas Castle.

The first few years after I left the SA, I reveled in the fact that Christmas was no longer a furious, runaway train of chaos and fundraising with kettles to be manned and counted, toys to be collected, and food boxes to be packed. I put up my decorations and did all the social things that I never had time for during the holidays when I was an officer.

As time’s gone on, though, I’ve found myself further and further removed from the holiday I used to hold so dear, until this year, I finally had the realization that the way I’ve always celebrated just doesn’t ‘fit’ anymore.

Two years ago, a dear, dear friend said something to me that I haven’t been able to shake. She said, “I don’t wish you a merry Christmas. You can have a merry Christmas another year. This year, I wish you peace.” The words were lost on me then, but as they years have come and gone, I’ve embraced her words, striving for peace, rather than merriment.

I’ve found myself connecting more and more with the winter solstice – embracing the darkness of the longest night and simultaneously looking toward the return of the light. The traditions of celebrating the solstice, with candles, fire, evergreen, etc, seem to “fit” better now with my world view. And I keep thinking about my friend’s words – wishing me peace.

One of the best parts of being a UU is that it’s freed me to pull truth from different faith traditions, and solstice has become a reminder that I need to embrace the darkness and stillness, reflecting on the past year and taking stock of where I am and where I’m going.

It used to be hard to sit with myself long enough to reflect and mediate. At times, the urge to resist going into my own mind/heart can still be strong.  Sometimes, I still try to distract myself out of it – keeping my focus outward rather than on what’s going on in my heart and mind.

That’s what I realized I was doing at Christmas; parties and decorations and presents just took the place of all the busyness of being in the army at Christmas, so I never had to think about my own anxieties and shortcomings.

The more comfortable I’ve gotten in my own skin though, the less the busyness appeals to me, and the more I WANT to set aside time for reflection.

That’s exactly what I’ll be doing tonight and over the next week or so. I’ll be taking stock of what’s happened over the past year. Once I’ve been able to sit with what’s transpired, and can see where I’ve come from, I can better decide what it is that I hope to create in the coming year.

If I take the time allow it, it can be a time of grieving what’s been lost, as well as celebrating the gifts and memories of things found and experiences made…. And a time of gratitude for accomplishments accomplished and opportunities given.

Ideally, if I’m brave enough, as I sit and take stock of my life, hopefully I can create space to allow myself to fully experience the feelings and thoughts that come up, without fighting or judging them. That’s the hard part, isn’t it? To sit without shame or guilt.

That’s what I’ve really learned this year.

To sit with myself without shame or guilt.

To sit with myself in peace.

To be lovingly honest.

Firm, yet forgiving.

I no longer wish to be trapped in a past I cannot change. There’s no benefit to it.

So I work toward that end, letting go of things that no longer ‘fit’…even if those things are the ways I’ve traditionally celebrated winter holidays like Christmas.

Here we are – on the longest night of the year, the winter solstice.

Today, I honor the darkness, and celebrate the return of the light.

I honor what’s been lost

Celebrate what’s been found

I wish myself peace, love, light, and growth in the coming year.

As the days grow longer again, and light returns to us, I wish the same for you.

Blessed Solstice.

Merry Christmas.

Peace be with you.