This time of year used to hold so much wonder and twinkly-ness for me. Getting to see a family that I thought was so solid and full of love. Once that thin string, that I didn’t see was holding it all together as a child, broke so did the magic of the season. My adult years have been filled with letting go of what once was, the lie I had been fed, and I’ve been slowly working on figuring out what this season means for myself.
Working on not feeling a deep sense of sadness that I cannot muster the busy-ness and glitz of what I thought this time should be filled with and finding that a silence and stillness is what calls to me, from deep within the earth. It’s a process, of grieving, of hope, a death life death cycle, over and over again.

So for now, I’m sitting in the acceptance of knowing what I thought was, wasn’t, and finding that the melancholy of that isn’t something to hide from.

I’ll be here, sitting with a cup of cocoa, if you’d like to join me.