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I’m fortuned with a wide variety of girlfriends. Some are high-stylin’ divas… with closets that would make the editorial staff of Glamour Magazine drool. Some are so eco-conscious, you’d swear their skin was made of tree bark. Others are so grounded in their physicality and sexuality, you might be jealous if you weren’t properly connected to Momma Gaia yourself. And there are a few that are so domestically inclined, with perfectly baked ginger bread men, honey-glazed hams (or tofu alternatives) and hair-free corners, your lesser-self might want to hang them by their apron strings. Well, I’d like to suggest that…
…we are all a facet of each other.
Whether your egg nog is the tastiest, your place-settings the most dazzling, your wrapped gifts the most symmetrical, or your pole-dance the sexiest, I salute you, Sister!!
It’s quite a lot of expectations whirling ’round about now, no?
Let’s be very honest: Who is The One that is typically/traditionally expected to execute all this Wonder-Fair? Santa?? His Elves?? Puh-leeze!! In the majority of North American households, it’s The Woman who is expected to pull off this extravaganza with a perfectly decorated, sanitized home, and bedazzling smile to boot.
It’s deep in our core, to want to feed, and nurture and host and care, and ensure that everyone is having the time of their life, eating the meal of their life, enjoying the party of their life, savoring the highest sentiment of the year.
Yeah, no pressure there.
This time of year is a heightened exclamation point. And, retailers aside, the best parts of it want to exclaim, in some way, that: “You matter to me.” The full, robust truth I see about The Holiday Season is this:
(-) it puts a lot of pressure on mere mortals to do and give and behave in ways that, ideally, we would do all year long, but because the weights of generosity and forgiveness and tireless good cheer and family togetherness can feel so heavy, we’ve relegated it to once a year… masqueraded beneath scotch-taped hopes, and store-brought dreams… when, really, our souls long for so much more. Stuff that can’t be bought or exchanged. We hunger for deep touches, and soulful contact. Sorry, retailers, but there are no receipts or coupons for this.
(+) it spurs a lot of dreams and glittery optimism about what could be possible in our relationships with each other all year long… strong euphoria, and courageous reckoning. Yeah, gimme an ounce of that in my stocking.
As a woman who feels very deeply, and doesn’t necessarily orientate herself from the kitchen (I cook from my keyboard), I wanted to write something in acknowledgement of those of us who might not make Grandma Pickens or Betty Crocker proud but who, in our day-to-day life, seek to add Cheer and Beauty and Luminosity to those we love every single blessed day of the year.
I see you Goddess, and I thank you for Being.
Happy Holidays to All!
Love All Ways,