December 24, 2011

The Cusp of the Old Year



Today is Christmas Eve. In some ways, I still feel the way I did as a child in the 1950’s, in awe of this season of transformation, and in other ways I have learned to savor this time in terms of looking at the past, enjoying its recollections, and then letting go too.    It is certainly a time for personal and family traditions that help to anchor us in an ever-changing, increasingly impersonal world of electronics that promises us speed and human connection but which at last gives us still more distance between us and others, and a shallow, abbreviated text message of what we once loved, like a sumptuous meal condensed into some flavorless capsule.  All the more reason to cherish a time of year when, for reasons that transcend both religion and commercialism, we confront an emotional reality based upon everything we have been and everything we would like to become.

Think of that holiday card you have received from an old friend from whom you haven’t heard in a long time, the signature alone summoning happy memories of times gone by.  That occurrence is most common at this time of year, because we have almost a collective acceptance of genuine sentiment, which many are too embarrassed to allow during any other season.  There is still something childlike and innocent about this time of year that takes us back to a naive but heartfelt joy in being with those we love and remembering those who are gone.  Zuzu’s petals (IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE), And Rosebud (Citizen Kane) are such powerful symbols of what we once saw and valued so clearly as children.  Maybe that’s why children are still at the hub of all that is Christmas, from the Christ child in his manger crib, to the face of a child on Christmas morning opening his first gift.  Everything about this season says, “Hey!  It’s OK.  Go ahead and feel deeply.  Forgive those who have treated you badly and don’t be afraid to show unbridled kindness and generosity to those you love.”  We, like Ebenezer Scrooge, can be transformed as at no other time of the year.  We can become more appreciative of what we have and of what we can give.  It’s a miraculous time.

For us adults at this time of year there is a strong feeling of time passing, as the clock ticks toward January first, when we let go of our sentimental views of past days (at least for a while) and replace our memories with hopes of better and more productive days that lie ahead, doing better at work, losing a few pounds through sheer will power, cleaning that hall closet, writing to those old friends we haven’t heard from for a long time.  We find a new chance to do well and to accomplish goals, however small.

Don’t be afraid or embarrassed to let the season enfold you or to allow yourself to enfold it.  The rewards are incalculable.
JB