An American Holiday

I was raised in a rather typical Christmas environment—deck the halls and carolling and the birthday of a savior. But I always found myself more focused on the mystery that was the father, or mother or, whatever it is—than I was in any figure conceptualized to be the symbol of the singular Creator. In the end, after years of addressing the question, I realized that I was never going to pass the acid test of being a christian. Although strangely enough, I didn't dismiss this belief system either. If it were true,
I felt that it was beyond my ability to ascertain it and to embrace it—agnosticism, I suppose.
Although for me, when it came to the Creator of the universe, I didn't really become an agnostic;
I just felt that the Creator was inherently transcendent, obviously beyond completely grasping.
​I am a believer.

I was never a traditionally religious guy, but in the three years that Shima and I have been together, the holidays have been a special, very beautiful time for us.

When I was a child reading the bible, it seemed that Christ's main message was really that we are all children of the father. Though an extremely profound act, did he simply recognize this and try to share this truth? Was he a direct manifestation of God telling us that we are his children, or was he a manifestation of God who realized that is what we all are? And where is the line between these two things? I'm afraid I was never very popular with the nuns.

I also came to learn, and appreciate, that the holidays were a convergence of many different histories and customs—room for all, and all the more sacred because of it.

Shima and I decorate a tree, make eggnog and watch a dozen different Scrooge movies. She sings some of the songs that she remembers from the Night Chant and creates some watercolors in homage to the incredible sand paintings that she saw when she was a child. We hang them up as part of our decorations. I play Für Elise on the piano and Shima smiles and applauds.
​We dance and laugh and remember special moments.

And when I look at her, my Love, resting and dreaming as it grows late on these precious evenings,
​I ponder whether some would consider me lost or a heathen--

but I feel like a very spiritual man, a very grateful man.

"Come All Ye Faithful" is playing low on the radio.

              Written Content   G.A.M.  cc
              For The Moment    Saksoni

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