by MK Martin
December: the sleepiest of months. When the sun goes down before tea time, and the garden is full of hungry little mouths, looking for what’s leftover.
blackest night,
coldest dawn,
sharpest wind,
time moves on.
Often, this month arrives with anxiety for me. I have never been very good at celebrations, often saying the wrong thing, or feeling out of place. While I enjoy some of the ritual of Christmas, the chaos and materialism get right under my skin, where it roils around and confuses the meaning of the season.
As a small child, I watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas so many times, I broke the VCR. The reason being, I wanted to see his heart grow again and again. I found the idea fascinating, and wondered if my own heart was too small. I also spent many hours in the bathroom, pulling Grinch faces. I felt like the Grinch. He was overwhelmed by it all, and struggled to find meaning in it.
This year, in the spirit of creation and passion, I want to see how many of our dear friends, peers and inspirational humans we can get together to share their holiday styles. A little festival of what we take away, personally, from this time of year. Reading about each other, from each of our perspectives, might bring what can seem like an insurmountable maelstrom into focus, and provide a little breathing room between wrapping and planning and baking and decorating and calling and writing and, everything, in between.
Won’t you join us?
