O Tanenbaum!

Christmastree2007
Originally uploaded by Randuwa

Once, during couples’ therapy, back in the day of coupledom!, I was told by our therapist that I didn't need anyone. That being in relationship with others was not essential to my psychological make-up or mental health – and when he offered that opinion, I didn't know what to say. 'Cause on some profound level I understood that he was right.

And yet I'm no recluse by any stretch of the imagination. My work alone keeps me front and center in the lives of dozens of adults and hundreds of children; all of whom I try to care for, nurture, support. I've come to realize that my "me time" is like the time your hybrid automobile spends in the garage plugged into the wall recharging its batteries. Without that, it ain’t gonna take you anywhere.

And in the same way "me time" also entails some amount of ritual: Things that I do to create for myself a sense of meaning that is both nostalgic and immensely comforting – things that recharge my batteries. Some of them were things that I integrated with a new gusto in my life when I was living blissfully unaware of the personal extravagance of coupledom, and none of those things was more intentional or precious than Christmas with all of the accoutrement therein to be found.

Therefore, it was only natural that initially the season was a casualty to the end of that relationship; but slowly it has worked its way back into the pantheon of "me time" rituals.

Which kind of explains why this weekend began with the fashioning of wreaths and ended with the trimming of the tree. A tree, that like the one of my childhood, has a toy train set running beneath it -- my Lego’s replace my father's Lionel. And, yes, it's a poor substitute no matter how you slice it! (My estranged sister inherited the Lionel; and since she’s a breeder with a child, I acquiesced with a willing heart.)

This image suggests, and I will confirm, that my home feels warm and comfy with this pagan monument to the season of Grace forming a centerpiece in my living room. My personal rituals continue in a restorative way, and my neighbors tell me how beautiful it looks to them. That’s an extravagant bonus, a mon avis.

And since I ain't prosecuting a war on anything -- Merry Christmas.