Funny enough this year’s Christmas eve is the first one without any rush to it. All the times before were hectic, lonely or too painful, chaotic or lacking in magic – and this one is much calmer. Perhaps, it is due to my second pregnancy or just the general slowing down, but somehow the magic is palpable, audible, – as it was somewhere in my childhood.
And suddenly I get a little tingling thought that Christmas is not at the least about decorating or even presents, or preparing the dinner, house or kids for the celebrations. Suddenly it’s all about dreams, hopes and all the stuff you can call non-magical, mundane even. But this non-magical stuff is what makes the days before Christmas and those that are to come, more wondrous than all the decorating, all the outer things, that make up the big picture.
And that’s what bring good old Dickens to mind, and you realize that the old chap was right after all – Christmas is a humble, yet glorious time- and it’s all about feeling hopeful, refreshed and full of hidden dreams. Christmas is much more than a date with Santa- or even a big rendezvous with Jesus – it is a moment when we meet ourselves, face to face, masks off, ambitions aside, and are free to explore the world we create – albeit for a fortnight, and it’s up to us what’s it gonna be.
The lesson of Christmas, as I see it, is in creating something new. From scratch. From a blueprint or a quick sketch, with words or deeds, or both – the medium doesn’t matter. What matters is the result. And the result will be magical- for it is the gift we all get – a gift that stays forever – if we’re wise enough to appreciate it and put it to use.