I love this time of the year. I love the mince pies and the carols and the tree twinkling in the corner. Last night I had friends to The Warren for a feast. I lit a real fire in the real grate (ie dirty). It blazed away, drawing all sorts of draughts from new and unexpected places, as my flat isn’t double glazed. I didn’t mind. Jean-Claude gave us a channelled introduction to 2011. Fasten your seat belts was the gist of the message. It’s going to get messy in the 3D world. Best to learn to fill one’s tank with magical thinking. And what better time to learn to do it than now. It is not the bright lights of the shopping malls that will help us through what’s ahead, it’s the inner light. It’s time to balance energies, remembering others rather than oneself and generally connecting to the eternal rather than the transitory. Easier said than done when I have just seen the most gorgeous cashmere wraparound in soft grey with matching slippers. If I bought it I might never leave the flat in 2011.
I learned some years ago that stress at Christmas is optional. I choose to not go there. I don’t even make my own mince pies any more, though the jar of mincemeat appears every year. The same one I might add! This year I squeezed the juice and zest of an orange into it, making a sauce to go with a Lidl Panettone, along with extra thick double cream. You can’t get a pudding more replete with the tone of Christmas than this and so easy too. Also the panettone leftovers can be transformed with a couple of quick flourishes into an up- market bread and butter pudding and presto another luxurious ‘afters’ is on the table.
I don’t send Christmas cards either. I phone a few precious people and I write a list of all those who have been a part of my 2010 in thought, word, deed and memory. Then the night before Christmas Eve, I sit down before a lit candle and do a ceremony of gratitude to those on the list, sending them best seasonal wishes. Thus they receive my love on the airways according to the principles of subatomic action at a distance, and I get to avoid the guilt trap. I end the ritual by sending love and healing to the whole world, to the people I don’t know, the people I haven’t yet met and to Earth itself. It sure needs it.
This year’s pre-Christmas treats have included Wink. As he’s from New England, he’s as excited as I am by the rituals of Christmas. I shall miss him when he returns home next week but I am so grateful for the brief adventure. The Universe in its wisdom sent me a great gift in Wink. We’ll keep in touch but I understood the deal right from the first giggle. Wink is young enough to have his experiences in front of him; experiences I’ve already had. After all I have more of my life behind me now than in front. But it was so good to share those days and nights with him and his cross- country- ski- honed body. I’ll have plenty of memories to enjoy over the break, like a pile of mental Ferrero Rocher, all gilt wrapped and guilt free. What was mine came to me and now I let it go. Keep the energy moving I say.