Christmas TEARS!

 

Christmas TEARS

Shower US

With

The gift

Of

TRUTH

Honest feelings

Rage

Anxiety

Sorrow

Joy

Hope

Delight

Peace

Memories bubbling UP

Hurts resurfacing

Wounds reopening

In order

To

RELEASE

Let go!

Let go!

Let go!

Making space for new life

Allowing us to breathe deeper

Right here

Right now

Gifting US

With what we need

Not necessarily

What we want

Making US Whole

Leading us HOME

To Our Truest Self

GRACE at Work

So MYSTICAL

So MAGICAL

Invisibly

Powering through US

Springing

Dancing

Spiraling

Pixie Dust

Ever-Sparkling

Within US

Around US

Splashes of Gold

Silver

Bronze

White

Tinges of Green

Purple

Magenta

FREEing

US

Doing

What we alone

Will NOT

CAN not

Often unconscious

Of ALL that is lodged

Within our tissues

Pumping through

Our bodies, hearts, minds, souls

It is TIME

To stand fully

In the moments

In our Self

To FEEL

Whatever

We are truly FEELing

Unearthing US

MORE ALIVE

Daring to FEEL

Welcome

Christmas TEARS

That come

Caused by

HAPPY

Touched by generosity

Bestowed upon us

SAD

Missing loved ones

We carry in our hearts

MIRACLES

Witnessing GREAT LOVE

Surprises

Leaving us in AWE

Filling us with WONDER

Reminding US

WE ARE THE GIFT

Inspiring US

To give our Self GENEROUSLY

Unwrapping US

BEAUTIFIED

By Truth

Connecting

With OUR Self

At a depth

We have never touched

Made possible

By

Christmas TEARS

GRACing US

With the BLESSEDNESS

We are

Of this Human

EXPERIENCE

Made even

More RICH

PRESENT

To the Unfolding

BEING wherever we are.

The last Christmas my mom was alive, she was sitting at the table with all of us gathered around.  Tears began to stream down her face and a well-intended family member scolded her saying:  There will be no tears on Christmas!  She covered her face with both hands ashamed and apologetic asking me to take her to the bedroom so she could be alone and lay down.  Right then, right there at the table with those uncomfortable with all that was bubbling up, I took her into my arms holding her as she sobbed uncontrollably, squealing and bringing through primal noises from the depths of her.  I could feel her body let go! let go! let go! and her breath entered the whole of her releasing tension, pain, memories – conscious and unconscious.  I bore witness to an actual Christmas miracle born of Truth, honest feelings pouring up and out.  What a privilege to be present to another especially my mom with nothing but love! 

My mom was a stoic woman who knew how to bare life, to repress, to be dutiful and do whatever was expected of her.  As a child, I vividly remember how she walked around our home sighing all day, closing her eyes as she sat in the chair overwhelmed trying to make all she was feeling go away, banging pots and pans to say what she could not voice, what was not permitted – no time for messy feelings when you have shit to do.  She suffered with depression so palpable that from my earliest memories I would love her up, squeezing her, trying to lift her heavy heart so burdened by life.      

These Christmas tears were a gift to us all watching a raw and honest moment enliven her even with her broken body deteriorating and weak, her spirit was set free.  I met her eye to eye and apologizing in her crying voice she said:  I am just feeling sorry for myself!  Making space for the enormity of all that sprang up and removing the charge of shame, I gave her permission to be where she was telling her that she had a lot to feel sorry about and to go ahead and feel it.  I added that a good cry is like a good bowel movement cleansing and freeing.  This made her giggle like a little girl and we cried and laughed together.

What a precious memory for me!  I smile with all of me letting these words come up and out onto the page.  And tears wash upon my shore gracing me.  Lovely. Poetic.  The privilege of living this life – all who I have shared this journey with – my cup runneth over and over with love and gratitude.

The invitation this day and this holiday season as you gather with family and friends is to welcome the tears that may appear to come out of nowhere, for no reason.  Let them come.  Let them wash up and out.  This is grace at work doing what we alone will not and cannot.  There is such beauty in the allowing!  Controlling our emotions flattens life, dulls the experience and the staleness starves us – hungry for the truth found in the depth of living.  We are here to come alive and letting life touch us whether it brings pain or joy gifts us, gifts all.  Happy tears.  Sad tears.  It matters not.  Christmas tears come.