Marianne Williamson

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Ecclesiastes

As it would happen, my thoughts seem to rest on Ecclesiastes;

that wondrous book that always helps me along in my cyclical (and often cynical) thinking. Its somewhat exhausting (cyclical thinking, that is), but so is arguing with God, and I've yet to give up on that, so it would seem this is right up my alley.

And here is where it starts: Christmas.

I wont be going home for Christmas. This is my first Christmas away from home. Unable to attend both this festive event and my best friend and sisters weddings (both of which fall on the same day, as luck and poor planning would have it), I was faced with the options of 1) taking a month off work and possibly getting fired, 2) quitting and being destitute and jobless, 3) not going to one of the most important days of my best friend and sisters lives, or 4) missing Christmas with my family on the day that was best estimated that Jesus was actually born. Naturally, the 4th option was the only proper option to choose.

Why are you spending Christmas alone, Barbara?

That's a good question, which, I must admit, is not fully decided upon. But that is neither here nor there. To be honest, I don't have to spend Christmas alone. I have had several offers from several gracious hosts all of whom told me that I would be welcome to join them and their families for Christmas dinner. Somewhere between seeing the variety of great friends to choose from and being told that some of the hosts regularly have 'strays', I found a somewhat bitter-sweet taste in my mouth.

Aside from not liking the comparison of a stray cat to myself, I found myself struggling with another thought: how was I to choose from the friends that offered me a place at their table? Wouldn't picking one be saying that they are the closest to family that I have here and so were a natural choice to be with? For you, the answer may be no, but for me? I have only ever spent Christmas with my family and cannot picture a more appropriate way to spend Christmas than being surrounded by the people who have given me more love, hope and grace, so the idea of choosing someone would be like choosing someone that was closest to my family.

That got me to thinking about family. How do I define family? These past couple of years I've been trying to broaden my outlook of family to include church and friends and coworkers and neighbors and, and, and yet, when I get down to it, I have a hard time seeing family in people that often aren't there for me as unconditionally as my own flesh and blood. I find it hard to be open as if these people were my family and worse yet, I found it incredibly hard to break in, and I'm not sure it was a one time deal. I feel like I have to continually break into a community so that I can fight for acceptance and love, just so I can call it my family. And so, my thinking shifted away from family and more towards home, a concept that I thought I had begun to get a grip on. Well, let me tell you.

Home. How do I define home? I've written songs about home, figuring that home was less of a location and less of who you surround yourself with but more of a sense of self, that home was your central base, the origin in your heart that defined who you were: where every hope we've had, every dream we've dreamed, every word and prayer that we've meant -- that was what I had started to peg home as. Turns out, when Josh Groban sings "I'll be home for Christmas", he doesn't mean that he's going to be true to his hopes and dreams. My backup idea of home was heaven, and to tell the truth, I don't think that's where Josh Groban was planning on spending Christmas either. So, is home where your stuff is and the people are at? Which got me thinking, Ecclesiastes, eh?

What do Christmas and the idea of home being where all your stuff is have in common? STUFF! You get stuff at Christmas, and where do you keep it?

(Ususally) at home. Aha! Ecclesiastes pops into my head at this moment in time.

IT'S ALL MEANINGLESS.

But then I get to thinking, but it's not meaningless. Christ is our meaning. That's why Christmas is such a big deal, right? It was a gift to us when Christ came into the world and we celebrate it by giving and hoping and sharing love and hot chocolate and... and then I realize, I wont be home for Christmas.

... I wont be home for Christmas.

And so then I get to thinking, well, Christmas, I mean, if its all about giving and sharing and loving and hot chocolate, then whats to stop me from just volunteering and loving and caring and giving and sharing my hot chocolate with someone in a soup kitchen? Why not spend Christmas with people who really need some loving and hot chocolate given to them? Which gets me to thinking, why is this just a Christmas attitude, that we exclusively give gifts on the day of the birth of our Saviour? I mean, sure, its very worth celebrating, don't get me wrong, I do not want to under emphasize that fact. But I'm sure that our Saviour would want this attitude to extend long past the day of his birth and to spill over into each and every day and hour and minute, right? Which gets me to thinking, why is Christmas made such a big deal of? Why don't we just give presents and loving and giving and sharing and HOT CHOCOLATE ALL THE TIME?! Which makes me think, is the Christmas we celebrate really just the consumeristic holiday? Which lead me right back to...

ECCLESIASTES.

my brain will find its way back to the root it settles on, every time.

exhausting.