I recall childhood Christmases, and filter them through this age's interpretation and get frustrated with myself that remembering doesn't necessarily make the same feelings arise that once created impetus for future Christmas seasons.
It's similar to no longer enjoying that great car you once bought, and no longer care for.
It's like watching a movie of some kid who is enjoying herself, but her thoughts are her own. I remember little things that once meant a great deal to me. I think it is a lot like Ram Dass' book, Be Here Now. It's what I was doing then, but I cannot go back and recapture it all.
I realize this is the point I am missing. I'm looking backward and wishing I was there now, and I'm not. I'm here, of course. It's not like I want to eradicate the deliciousness of those childhood memories. A lot of them have come to visit me lately, carol singing in the snow with other kids, wrapping gifts for Mom 'cause she was "all thumbs", making all our christmas cards by hand. Great expectations of forcing those feelings is unrealistic.
By clinging to the idea that I might re-capture those previous experiences and renew my "joys of the season", I've made an effort to examine what might bring about new sensitivity on my part. The logical mind wants so badly to have it diagrammed in plain black and white. The reality is if I did have those answers, it would only be understanding and not satisfaction in "knowing". I mean the knowing from the heart, the knowing that passes needing explanations. So, I wait to see, even in my mild anticipation, how things will be this year. I think I have a big chance to have a good time, as I will be seeing my kids, grand kids and great grand kids. Surely, their joy is contagious. So, it will be nice to soak it up like sunshine.
I have hope for a renewal, or perhaps a new way of experiencing the season, here and now.
