Blessings on your rituals!

And a little Christmas gift for dogs.

Wrapping presents on the cusp of midnight, Christmas Eve, the room untiptoeable for ribbon and paper and last years’ cards recycled as this year’s tags, buried scissors.

Jazz by the fading fire, wine by crumbs. And suddenly it’s at last a moment that feels like Christmas. I smile and realise, this is familiar, this feels right.

The melting of the self has begun. Bring on the big, warm day…

Rituals seem under threat from Covid, and materialism, and in my case ageing. I miss carols by candlelight in cold tiny village churches and fusty drinks parties with neighbours. The long run up of plan making that seemed such a feature of our noisy childhood since lost in a less organised adult life with a smaller family and forgotten religion.

So it’s a relief to find in the chaos, the lateness, the quiet of this midnight room… The taking too long to wrap each gift – find the right combination of colours – cut recycled papers to fit new shapes – each choice an act of love… A personal ritual that feels so familiar, so right.

Of course, really, it’s just the beginning of letting go, which is exactly what festivals are created for.

Ungripping from the too hectic workaday schedule into a memory of fun and rest. And my nostalgic cravings are all a nonsense because we’ve been carving out new patterns of doing things over the years without noticing, which our own children will no doubt one day reminisce about in their turn. It’s the creation of space for peace together, symbols we share to remember that.

You’ll probably be reading this on Christmas day, or thereafter. And so I send you the bonniest blessings for your own personal rituals in this season of hibernation – may each one remind you to rest and be warm hearted.

I will leave you with a tune from my jolly brother, who is making his own new rituals too far away this year, though close at heart.

With love to all, Happy Christmas. x