January 2nd and the lights are out. All over town, the warm lights
that guided weary revelers through the streets and hypnotized sleepy
children into sleep are gone. Any evidence of the month of December,
of wintertime suddenly has gone dark. In Florida, the only sign of
the change of seasons is the change of door decorations. Just as I
settled into the holiday spirit, with the stress and weariness of the
holiday bustle gone, it is back to the same old, same old. Talk of
trees being taken down. Rush, swish, crinkle, and snap, Christmas is
all packed away.

"I like our new vacation schedule."
"New? How so?"
"We used to get the week before Christmas off then go back to school
just after New Year's. This year, we get the week after New Year's
off. It is nice to relax after the holidays."

I agree. Holidays are meant to stop and enjoy the simplicity of joy
and peace. Instead, we are sold a million ways to create it, only
keeping both further from our reach. Let's start with Halloween.
Well, we never really get to enjoy Halloween, since before the
pumpkins begin to decay, or even before the Jack-O-Lantern candle has
gone dark, Christmas carols begin playing and shopping lists begin to
grow.

I guess, considering that, it is no wonder that everyone is ready to
wrap it up and toss it out with all the used wrappers and noisemakers
as soon as the new year begins.

Yet I always feel like it is all just beginning when it ends.
Suddenly, the weight is lifted and we can just be ourselves again and
the joy comes forth. Expectations and disappointments and elation of
wishes granted are all now suddenly not so important. On Sunday,
rather than a choir, the church i went to (and I know the same
happened back home) sang Christmas hymns and carols, favorites chosen
by the congregates. I was happy to sing carols, the best part of
Christmas (if only they haven't been ruined by spoofs and playing on
Halloween), especially this year since I had laryngitis for the
actual Christmas services. We just sang the songs. No pagentry, no
choir, no fuss, just the glorious music and words of good tidings for
love and peace and joy.

Love.
Peace.
Joy.

My tree will stay up this year until February, when I return home.
I look forward to one last night with my twinkling tree, no holiday,
no roles to play, no obligations or expectations. Just me, my tree
and the spirit of Christmas, holding on a little big longer,
outliving the pre, during, and post-Christmas sales, reminding me to
be thankful for still being able to appreciate the friendship,
family, and generosity of the universe in my life.