Joys & Sorrows

Notes from the wild…on the paradox of Christmas.

My twinkling star light curtain.

This week I’ve been sitting with the complexity of feelings that come around this time of year. In this season joy can be found in all the sparkling lights, twinkling in peoples homes and gardens. Every twinkle a sign of the Light coming, the Light that has already come. Lights suddenly appear for us as a witness to the joy found in this time of year. And there is also still sorrow very present in this season. This time of year can be so difficult for those whose families have been broken for one reason or another. For other families still showing up but recognising their fractured parts.

I was wondering what to write about for this weeks Wild Times newsletter and I felt it’s right to honour the complexity of feelings that surface for so many over the festive season.

Every TV advert, every marketing ploy sent for us to buy into this season, every Christmas family pyjama’s Instagram post, every Christmas song on the radio bears witness to a time where family is central & where sharing time, gifts and food together is what makes this season special. But for so many of us this season sparks something other than joy. It sparks the realisation that our families are fractured in so many ways. It’s sparks an even deeper sense of loneliness that is there alright but rises further to the surface when we’re in the midst of an array of happy family pictures.

I don’t have any answers either. I wish I could magic away the pain and difficulty many find during this time of year. I wish I could offer a hug or a listening ear or a cup of tea to anyone struggling to find the words to articulate their big feels because of it. I wish I could tell them they don’t need to pretend that they’re happy. I wish I could tell them it’s ok to remove the mask they’re wearing. I wish, I wish, I wish…

I do hope that in some small way for anyone who’s feeling a little more lonely, a little more broken, a little more envious of the happy Christmas families, that you can find solace in these words. You don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to try to conjure up positivity because the lights are all twinkling out there. Give yourself permission to grieve what you’re missing or what you’ve never had or what you’ve lost. Give space to nurture those emotions. Do what you can to tend to them.

The Christmas story brings me solace.

This is why.

Jesus came to us in the most vulnerable way possible. As a babe. Defenceless & completely dependant. With parents who also had their own complex mix of emotions. In a lowly manger, not in some fancy big house or luxury hotel & they were certainly not wearing family Christmas pyjama’s. He came lowly. I’m glad he came this way because this is a person I can relate to. He knew lowly places, like I do and maybe you do too.

Image by Scott Erickson

Lowly, a babe and a Prince of Peace.

That’s all I have to say about the image above.

I came across this image below on my Spiritual Direction course this week. Look at Joseph above Mary. A carpenter hugging the wooden beam, his face weary from the journey, exhausted by all that had come before. I find solace in Joseph. I too feel a little weary from this past year. I’m tired from this past season. For anyone else reading this who may be too, allow yourself to just be here.

It’s all ok.

Let’s not feel like we need to put on joy this holiday season.

Just be right where you are. That my friend is all that’s required of you.

I hope this speaks gently to you on your way.

Until the next time.