I am resting, recovering from Christmas. Oh, I love Christmas and its spirit, but the intensity jostles what Jim calls my “delicate ecology.” So I am recovering. It seemed like every time I opened a door, angels were singing, and ordinary moments, which are magical enough, in my opinion, were heavily glittered with Christmas magic, and sagged under the weight of memories. Soon, I was staggering, and I had a bad moment when I ran out of cellophane tape when wrapping gifts. This happens every year. Jim pulled me from the fruitcake soup of Christmas just as I was about to go under, and he administered CPR. His remedy? Watching “Jaws” on TV just before going to the Christmas Eve candlelight service. There are no poinsettias in “Jaws,” and somehow I felt my equilibrium restored. So I am recovering, and find my dreams are of blue skies, feathers, and simplicity.
My New Year’s wish to you is this: May you soar through the coming year as beautifully and bravely as a swan. And may we all love one another, and may we be kind to one another. Namaste.