“It was the Yuletide, that men call Christmas though they know in their hearts it is older than Bethlehem and Babylon, older than Memphis and mankind.”
— H. P. Lovecraft “The Festival
I make no claims on this holiday nor does it make any on me. Oh there will be presents yet this day in my youth was what my friends did rather than light candles and eat chocolate coins. I’d see their trees and eat their cookies but felt an odd disconnect. We had a fire in our fireplace and no one was gonna brave that to put toys under a nonexistent tree.
For the past several years, I did the family thing. Tho my personal beliefs (long shed of menorah rituals as well tho some of mine still used candles) did not encompass this night, my partner did so I played the pretend game for the kids tho they seemed to worship the man in the red suit and I laughed at the dyslexic joke and I decorated trees and gave tribute to my kids and the spirit of familial warmth and material avarice.
Now the kids are about grown, well beyond beliefs in reindeer and the disconnect returns. I pay honour to the changing seasons and the annual balance and swing of light and dark. Yet this particular day I still feel a bit of a disconnect. it seems more construction and the motions that people go through not very joyous as much as a need for completeness. I tend to prefer a bit more authenticity in my rituals. I know that that is my responsibility to find it and I do yet that was days ago.
I will not force myself into joy or connection. I take joy in moments and not in dates and I wish everyone the joy of the moment. Still in the quiet echo of my thoughts, I let the day drift by observing but unobservant.
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