_ It’s such a beautiful time of year.

Warm nights by the fire. Holiday music playing on the stereo. Hot cocoa and Charlie Brown on TV.

It makes me think of simpler, more caring times when life didn’t feel quite as complicated and confusing.

So when my kids were born I wanted to make Chanukah a special time for them. I wanted it to be exciting and fun and something they would remember when later life felt more complicated and confusing.

The best way I could think of doing that was with presents. Lots of them.

Chanukah is eight nights long so for eight nights my husband and I gave our kids presents.

It started off innocently enough. That first year we gave my daughter toys she already owned. We just rewrapped them.

The following year took a little more effort yet was still fairly simple.

But by the time my kids were nine and seven Chanukah was becoming, quite simply, a pain in the rear.

My husband and I would spend weeks searching for presents. And the presents got more expensive and elaborate with each passing year.

On top of it all, it just didn’t feel right anymore.

My kids had enough.

They didn’t need another electronic gadget. They didn’t need another set of Legos. They didn’t need one more craft kit.

They had enough.

And how could I teach them to value the earth and it’s precious resources or to resist the “got to buy more” urge if I was the one putting all that stuff into their precious little hands.

So when this Chanukah rolled around I knew I had to do something different.

Something that would bring back that feeling of simplicity and joy and caring and love. Something that didn’t center around more and more stuff.

And that’s when I came up with “Theme Chanukah.”

Every night of Chanukah would be a different theme. One night would be movie night. One night could be games night and favorite foods night and charity night.

We could spend time together. Play and laugh and eat together. We could share together and together we could reclaim what had slowly been slipping away with each passing year.

The following morning, with crossed fingers and eager excitement in my voice, I shared my idea with my kids.

I explained about making popcorn and having picnics and watching movies and playing games and before I could get all eight nights out, they were sold.

“Yeah,” said my daughter, “and we could get a scrapbook and we could each have a page in the scrapbook and we could decorate the pages one night and then every time we did something together as a family we could decorate another page in the scrapbook”

My son asked, “And can we have an ice cream night and make ice cream sundaes with whipped cream and sprinkles?”

Because after everything, kids want connection and love and fun just as much as we do.

And sure, we’ll throw in a present or two. But it won’t be the focus and it won’t be the reason. It’ll be one more way we share our love and give each other joy.

Now for the first time in years I’m not doing any crazy holiday shopping. I’m not making mad dashes to the stores trying to find just one more thing. And I’m finally just relaxing into the pure joy of family, and love and the miracle of light.


Daphne can be found on her Site, Facebook and Twitter

Stephanie guestblogged for me yesterday and she is currently holding a fabulous giveaway on her blog do check it out!

_ Crystals for Winter Solstice

I really really really enjoy celebrating the Winter Solstice; a time when the night is the longest, giving me plenty of time for contemplation. This is a time of reflection for me & of thinking up new goals to focus on for the coming year. That’s always good stuff, right there. Crystals & stones help me to focus on my goals while also helping me resonate & jive with Mother Earth’s seasonal frequencies as they ebb & flow. Crystals can be such blessings at this time of year whether you celebrate the Solstice, Kwanza, Ramadan, Christmas, Chanukah, or any other winter holidays I haven’t thought of yet!

BUT! The crystal I love to work with most for Winter Solstice is almandine garnet. 

Here’s a video I did on garnet:

_ Garnet has a yummy smoldering inner fire that rebels against even the most bitter cold winter days & seasonal melancholy (should you have any this time of year), especially for those of us who may suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder brought on by the diminished sunlight. ((HUGS)) Almandine garnet’s gorgeous deep red color reminds me of the sacred Yule berry; holly! Garnet’s properties bring about courage & vitality during the dark winter months, something we probably all could use.

I truly luv to make a Solstice Sachet chockfull of solstice goodness. I have been doing this for several years now & absolutely LOVE them! I take an evergreen colored organza bag & then I toss in a mix of these Winter Solstice dried organic herbs; comfrey, mistletoe, whole cloves (the last 2 are not pictured) & frankincense resin chips. Then I infuse the herbs & resin with organic Scotch Pine & Fir Needle essential oils. And of course, I include 2 large tumbled Garnet gem stones along with 3 quartz crystal points to further amplify the garnet-energy.

_ So what do you do with a mojo bag such as this one? I do several different things with it depending on what strikes me at the moment! I may first charge it on my sacred meditation altar to help imbue the correct energetic frequencies.

_ I’ll leave it there for a day or two & then I may mediate with it (the crystals & aroma put me in the perfect Winter Solstice meditative state…gets me right where I need to be). I may choose to lay it by my bedside or sleep with it under my pillow. However, I usually end up carry it around with me in my purse, holding & sniffing it whenever I need a reminder…like when someone pushes me in the way too long line at the post office packed with other frustrated sourpusses such as myself. I may pull it out when I just want to feel that magical Solstice mojo, reminding myself of all my dreams & intentions for this holiday season & the coming year ahead. The crystal’s vibrational frequencies get to workin’ on me & nothing else is quite as nice. Give it a whirl! It may become an annual tradition for you too!

_ Celebrating the Solstice – southern style


It's not my holiday...
Born Jewish, and Pagan by choice -
This feeding frenzy of bargains and buying
Is no part of my spiritual beliefs

It's not my holiday...
Raised in the Land of the Long White Cloud
Where December heralds midsummer and the beach
The ever-present images of snowmen and pines
Give me nothing to connect with

It's not my holiday...
And yet...

In the bright glow of the Christmas lights -
The hopes of peace and unity and reverence and rebirth -
The message beneath the madness -
I see my own dreams and prayers reflected

And somehow
I feel warmed


Tanja Gardner, 2003


I suppose the first thing I should say to introduce this post is that I don’t really have a seasonal celebration tradition. The way I observe the season each year – or indeed, whether I observe it or not – seems to vary wildly. Which probably only makes sense when you look at my history.

I grew up Jewish – kind of. Here in New Zealand, we are, as a whole, fairly laid back about religion. And although I went to a Jewish preschool, and then a Jewish school until I was 10, we really weren’t what you’d call an observant family. So one year we’d celebrate Christmas, and the next we’d celebrate Chanukah (which would generally also involve presents and be otherwise indistinguishable from Christmas). And family holiday traditions weren’t really something we were big on.

Once I left home, I started exploring the Pagan path. Suddenly, instead of thinking in terms of Christmas or Chanukah, I was thinking about Yule. Except… it wasn’t that either. Here “down under” in New Zealand, December 21 means we’re bang in the middle of summer. So if anything, it’s Litha – the Summer Solstice – here.

The net result is that, on any given year, I’m just as likely to celebrate Solstice by going to the beach with friends or having a picnic in the park as I am to do anything spiritual. Don’t get me wrong – it’s not that I don’t want to celebrate the seasons spiritually. But when the day arrives, I often find myself lacking… inspiration.

Occasionally, I’ve been known to head up to the top of one of my hometown’s ubiquitous hills, gaze down on the city spread out underneath me, and just breathe a prayer of thanks for the beauty of my life and the blessings I’ve been given. Or, y’know, grit my teeth in frustration at whatever tsunami of a drama happens to be crashing over my life at that point in time… But something about looking down from high places gives me a sense of perspective that make the dramas fade and blessings reappear front and centre in my sphere of consciousness.

Interestingly, despite my own lack of anything resembling an annual tradition, I love experiencing other people’s. I love seeing the joy other folks take in the holiday season. Whatever tradition they follow (even if it’s their own… or perhaps especially if it’s their own), I love seeing the peace and fulfilment and wonder it brings them. I love seeing the “Magic of Christmas” light up kids’ faces – even though I don’t have a single maternal bone in my body. I love seeing the Christmas lights, and the Chanukah candles, and the thousand and one wishes that people have for themselves and the ones they love.

A part of me would love to create my own annual tradition – and make it something nature-based and seasonal and suitably celebratory. The idea of finding a deserted beach somewhere each year and skinny-dipping in the sea to celebrate Mama Earth, and Mama Ocean, and my own beautiful, natural body with all its curves and flaws is kind of appealing. But I’ve never managed to sum up the courage to skinny-dip anywhere before… Who knows, maybe this will be the year?

Other than that though… I’ll probably just do what I always do this Solstice – wait and watch and see what feels appropriate on the day itself.

And you know, as I read that sentence back, it occurs to me that maybe I do have a tradition at this time of year. Perhaps my tradition is to take a step back and see what other people are doing. To let their efforts and ideas for the season gently wash over me, after a year of being caught up in my own head. To sample their activities and thoughts and let it all inspire me for the coming year.

I could, it seems to me, do worse when it comes to holiday traditions…

_Hi, I'm Tanja, and I work as a professional copywriter. I love my job. I love the artistry of working with words - weaving them into a tapestry, sculpting them into a masterpiece. I love making sure a piece of writing says EXACTLY what it's meant to say: clearly, concisely and creatively. Read more on my blog or come and say hello on Twitter!

A great post from Petrea today check the end of the post for all the juicy links

_ When I was a little girl, I remember waking up to the excitement of gifts under the Christmas tree. After opening the gifts I recall having a sense of wanting more. Not that I wanted more toys or things. Not that I wasn’t happy with the gifts I received. It was just that somewhere deep inside I knew there had to be more. Often that “more” would come in the form of spending time with my family, watching seasonal movies and enjoying my mom’s home cooked meal.

As I became a young adult, that nagging feeling continued to follow me. At every Christmas there was this feeling of everything being centred around one day and an immediate sense of loss once it was all over. The magic was gone.

When I became a parent I wanted to create new traditions for our family. I didn’t want my children to feel overwhelmed by commercialism, yearning for more “things”.

My first son’s first winter celebration was the first day of winter 2000 on the winter solstice. We gave him a simple wooden car. The following years we continued to  keep it simple, with handmade gifts from me or local artisans.

While we weren’t officially celebrating Christmas at home, we celebrated it with the grandparents. This was important. This was family. This to me was the light I yearned for.

But celebrating differently than others is not always easy. So my husband and I were very drawn to a Solstice Parade we heard of when our first-born was a baby.

There is something about being out in community and feeling the awe and wonder of others mingled in with your own that is sacred, even magical.

From then on, every Winter Solstice our family participates in the Festival of Lights here in Toronto. It’s a parade that gathers downtown in Kensington Market. Although it has grown to be quite big since we first started going 11 years ago, it has not lost its magic.

We make and bring lanterns to light at the parade. We follow giant puppets on stilts, alongside fire-eaters, to the grooving beats of the Samba Squad and other upbeat bands. We make our way through closed off streets displaying mini plays about all the different celebrations: Kwanza, Hanukkah, Winter Solstice, Christmas, and ending in a bonfire with more music and dancing to keep us warm.

While celebrating with community is important, it doesn’t replace the more intimate moments with family. We remember the to feed the wild animals (well city animals: blue jays, cardinals, chickadees, squirrels). We also started a tradition of having a Winter Solstice gift for the family; one year it was snowshoes, another a family membership at the museum. The emphasis on the gift was always something to be used together.

As much as I wanted to get away from the commercialism of Christmas, we made a choice to invite Santa in as part of our celebrations. There is something about wishing and watching those wishes magically come true (like the tooth fairy) that I feel is important for children to experience. It opens them up and allows them the space to believe in the many possibilities out there.

My favorite part of our celebration has to be the creative excitement that happens for my boys. This year, on the first weekend of December, I woke to find my boys decorating the Yule/Christmas tree all by themselves. They then proceeded to make tissue paper snowflakes and set up a winter window scene in our front window. When they were younger we would set up a whole table of a winter scene with acorn people representing our family and pine cone trees on a backdrop of white fleece. Now each year they create their own winter window scene with giant snowflakes overhead.

Winter can be a tough time of year for many different reasons. The cold and lack of light affects the moods of many. To me it is all the more reason that family should come together with celebrations and traditions that bring them closer in spirit. Making things together, sharing thoughts, embracing the silence that is winter.

While we try to do many creative things indoors, we also like to get out of doors and breathe the crisp winter air, while crunching into the glowing white snow. We welcome the snow as it brings a different kind of light to our world, reflecting the stillness and the brightness that is within.

Celebrating the light is celebrating our connection with each other as a family.


There are many ways to do this:

• You can create gifts together for each other or friends. One year we created bath bombs (so many instructions on the web) This year we are making sock monkeys.
• Walks out in nature especially when there is fresh snow.
  
• Setting up bird feeders as you watch the birds come from a warm spot inside sipping tea or hot carob drink.
  
• Creating music together: we like to drum and play the singing bowl
  
• Making something together: my boys are really into taking a gazillion pictures of figures made from modeling clay to make into short animations and then showing us their film. We also love to make gingerbread homes and gingerbread cookies with their own personalities.
  

Petrea Hansen-Adamidis is a mom to two boys, Registered Art Therapist, artist, gardener, blogger and an avid nature nut. She is passionate about connecting families through the expressive arts and connecting adults with their inner muse.

Petrea is the founder of Offbeatfamily.com,  living life on the offbeat, and ArtTherapist.ca Drawing the Self out . She is the author of "The Parent Inspiration Tool-Kit: Emotional First Aid for Parents". 
Follow her on Twitter @offbeatfamily & @drawingselfout and on Facebook: Off beat Family  & Art Therapist



_

_
For me, December brings about an inexplicable peaceful feeling—the feeling that comes with cuddling up with beloved family by a warm fire while the snow falls outside. My family has celebrated Christmas and Hanukkah since I was little, adding Yule/Solstice when I made the decision to follow an Earth-centered path. But the names and individual traditions for the holidays don’t matter. What matters is the feeling of goodwill and love that pervades the season (when people aren’t pepper-spraying each other for the newest gaming platforms). I look forward to being ‘officially allowed’ to listen to Christmas music, lighting the menorahs, and ice-skating on a mountain lake. It all feels beautifully festive and lights up the winter darkness.

  In ancient mythologies, Yule (the winter solstice) celebrates the rebirth of the sun god. In the Norse tradition, it’s Baldr. In Inuit tradition, Raven likely releases the sun around this time of the year. Amaterasu, in Japan, is finally lured out of her cave. In Celtic mythology, it’s Lugh of the Long Arm. Using the Celtic/Wiccan tradition, Yule is also the first sabbat of the new year (with Samhain/Halloween as the beginning of the year). That makes winter, dark as it is, very important. It’s a time to set new intentions and new goals, and to touch bases with your inner deity. It’s a time to begin the rebirth that takes place in spring, preparing the seeds for planting when the snows melt.

  I’ll admit, over the last few years I’ve been terrible about using this time for introspection and feeding my spirit. If I was lucky, I’d spend a bit of time in meditation on the solstice, but that wasn’t as often as I’d like. Several years ago, when I first started on my spiritual path, my family went on a handful of solstice walks at a local national park. The park staff provided cocoa and coffee for whoever showed up, and we all trekked out to a hill to watch the sunrise. It was always freezing, even with three or four layers of warm clothes, but it was brilliantly moving.

  This year, I hope to get up early and watch the sunrise again, though the park has stopped holding their walks. I hope to take at least a few hours between making presents for my family, shopping for a local toy drive—we sponsor two kids every year—and trying to remember the prayers for Hanukkah, to reconnect with the spirit of the season. This December, I’m going to take the time to reinvigorate my soul, and I hope you do, too.

  Take some time to check in with yourself. Meditate if it calls to you; take a long walk in the cold (assuming you get some, like I do); give as much as you can. It’s a beautiful, sparkling feeling to give just for the sake of giving. Can you imagine giving a kid a Christmas that they may have not been able to have otherwise? Yeah, that may be a bit materialistic, but even just imagining the smile on a child’s face when they see most if not all of their wish list under the tree gives me happy shivers.


  I wish you all the very best holiday season, whatever and however you celebrate.

  Love, light and laughter,

Gaelach

_Gaelach Odindóttir is a reiki practitioner, intuitive oracle card reader and the creative priestess of Musings of Magick. When she's not sewing or attempting to coax her inner goddess into the open, she can generally be found writing fantasy stories or dancing like a madwoman.

Gaelach can be found on Facebook, twitter and obviously her blog

_ Winter Solstice, it’s the longest night of the year.

Where I live it’s a cold and often snowy night, and the next morning begins the new cycle, with days getting longer just a few minutes at a time. For many years, my friends and I would gather on Solstice night and hold vigil until the dawning of the new day.

In many traditions, like mine, the morning after the Winter Solstice brings the rebirth of the Sun God, who warms us and helps the Earth to grow and produce, until he passes again and diminishes at the Summer Solstice.

Solstice night is the time of the Mother’s labor…


and so we hold vigil, and sit with Her through the night.


Vigil was a mixture of ritual, life review, and all of the trappings of a slumber party - movies, snacks and games and trying our best to help each other stay awake all night long. It’s amazing how time seems to stretch and slow when you are trying to stay up all night!

The vigil was both fun and challenging, and we built a connection with each other, and our faith those long winters’ nights.

But, the most beautiful part of our tradition came with the morning.


In the early hours… before even Starbucks opened for the day, we would bundle up in as many layers as we could stand, pack travel mugs of coffee and cocoa, grab blankets and pile in the car. We would head up into the foothills, to the outdoor amphitheater.

There, on the mountain, in the cold – and sometimes snow – we gathered with other small groups, bundled and sleepy, to await the return of the Sun.

And then it began

Slow at first, as people settled in… and one by one, the drums joined in… and the chants began.

We drummed and sang into the early morning, and fire dancers spun their flames, and bodies bent and stretched in yogic salutation.

And the light began to crest on the horizon

The drumming and chanting got louder and more urgent.

And the light got stronger, and the sky filed with orange and pink.

The drumming and singing continued

On

And on

Until finally the great, beautiful ball of fire emerged from its slumber, and a cheer erupted from the crowd.

The Sun has returned!

It’s been a couple of years since we held our vigil and heralded the return of the sun in this way. We are older now, and work and family obligations make it difficult.

But the beauty and energy of that tradition stay with me and I am so happy to be able to share it with you.

And who knows… maybe this year we will vigil again!

_ Tina Robbins is a transition travel guide who works with women as they maneuver through major life shifts. Together we explore practical and soul strengthening ways to feel great about the new direction their lives are headed. I currently work 1 on 1 and just released an e-book about staying sane through the holidays.

She lives in Colorado with her spouse and menagerie of animals. She is a spiritual seeker who has spent years on the path of discovering the Divine in herself and all of us.
You can find her at her blog www.openroadscoaching.com
Twitter: @openroadscoach
Facebook and G+

_In the Northern Hemisphere, December sees us hurtling in the deep dark toward the hope of returning light. We find ourselves shuffling through our days, trudging through obligatory rituals devoid of meaning, yet rife with commercialism and, for many, despair.

The holidays can be a very difficult time, whether we love Christmas or not. If we’ve lost loved ones, the holidays can be extra hard; the season tends to amplify and reflect back to us what the past year has brought or taken away, and along with it, the ghosts of holidays past, for good or ill.

Re-inventing the holidays for oneself as an adult is a little bit like re-inventing the wheel. Usually by the time we are grown ups and have figured out there is no Santa Claus, the holidays are so weighed down with family and other emotional baggage, that our holiday spirits are heavier than the lumps of coal in our stockings. As we get older and family relationships shift, so too do our  spiritual lives. We may question the traditions we once participated in, and so December can be fraught with confusion. Where has the holiday spirit gone?

Yet it is up to us to make our holidays into holy days, to return the sacred to the season.

My own situation is that I’m an adult with no family of my own, save for my two fur-children. My mother passed away over 7 years ago, and my father is seriously ill with advanced Alzheimer’s disease. I was raised Catholic and still celebrate Christmas, but my spiritual leanings are far more pagan as the years pass. All these things mean I have to continually re-adjust and re-affirm my love for the season in my own way. I have come to see that seeking what is meaningful to me during the holiday season is a form of extreme self-care.

Let’s step away from the things media and culture would like us to value above all (spending money), and look at what we *want* from the season.

For myself, I know I would like to experience: Presence, Gratitude and Magick.

Presence

If the holidays are not all about presents, then they are about presence. For many of us, this is the only time all year where we’re allowed a little extra time off to be with our families. Yet how much of that is spent in a frenzied rush to get to the next party or beat the rush on that final sale? We have a choice how we spend our time this year, and if we choose to spend time with our families, we need to be present. How about taking a family walk? One Thanksgiving a few years ago, my family and I did this, even though it was pouring rain. We all went out with borrowed umbrellas and it was so windy that mine blew inside out. I confessed to my family that I actually have an irrational fear of umbrellas for that very reason! And we all had a good laugh. Engaging your loved ones in conversations about their favorite memories from holidays past is a fun way to stay present as well. You’ll find that even the kids’ memories don’t revolve around the presents they received, but rather the experiences shared. At your next event or gathering, really show up, remembering to bring *yourself* to the table.

Gratitude

I once heard Bette Midler tell a story about how, every Christmas, her family exchanges names and each person writes a love letter of gratitude to the person whose name they chose. Last year, short on moolah but finding myself rich with gratitude, I decided to write everyone in my family one of these letters. Now, I know what you’re thinking -- and there are some people in my family that drive me nuts, too! But the truth is, there is rarely a person around for whom I can’t find some reason to be grateful. As I sat in my bed writing my gratitude letters, tears filled my eyes and I saw what a gift my family is to me. It was a process of giving appreciation and also of receiving the bounty that each person continually gives me. That was my own Christmas gift.

Magick

Even if we have moved away from the spiritual traditions of our first families, there are often rituals or traditions from our childhoods that we enjoy and wish to maintain. It is entirely possible to embrace your new traditions and ideas and co-mingle them with the richly storied traditions of your upbringing. Perhaps you don’t go to Midnight Mass anymore on Christmas Eve, but you still like having a little “snack buffet” (a variation on réveillon, a French traditional post-Midnight Mass meal for the adults) that evening. Light a dozen candles, play some meaningful music, and lay out your favorite foods. Laugh and enjoy the adult company (the kiddies are in bed because they can’t be awake when Santa arrives, or they won’t get presents).

My favorite tradition is decorating the tree. It is an all-day affair, complete with hot chocolate, carefully chosen Christmas carols and perhaps a little It’s A Wonderful Life on tv, and putting up the lights, decorations, stockings. Since I live alone, the tree is just for me, but I have come to see the tree and the lights as a vital bit of self-care for my holiday spirit.

And that is my point: By taking a little time out of your busy life *right now* to consider what traditions, rituals and holiday trimmings you really, deep-in-your-heart love, you can plan your holidays around observing them. Got holiday plans that just don’t sing to your spirit? You don’t have to do them, you know.

Step off the merry-go-round of holiday madness once and for all. You deserve to celebrate the season in your own way.

_ Dad’s house for catching up.
Grandma’s for dinner and presents.
Back to Dad’s for presents.
Other grandma’s for brunch and presents.
Friends’ houses for visiting, food, and presents.
Back to Dad’s for recuperation.

  That’s been my Christmas tradition for over 20 years. Some things have changed, but the essence remains: three days filled with family bonding, catching up after a busy year, and lots of eating. As I’ve grown up and moved further across the continent, our family’s style of holiday observance has become sacred time for me. It’s a steady rock in the swiftly-moving current of my life.

  I must’ve been about five when my parents divorced and we started having separate holiday celebrations. When you’re that age, you can forgive almost anything when you’re getting two whole Christmases, so the split didn’t bother my brother and me much come winter. We loved the family attention as conflicts were set aside just for us. Even in elementary school, I knew Christmas was something special for a reason beyond presents.

Over the years, people moved, plans changed, kids grew, but the feelings of warmth and togetherness I sensed as a child never dissipated.

Our Christmas routine keeps me emotionally anchored to a city I haven’t lived in for two decades and to a family I see only once a year. I’m unnaturally eager to hop on a plane during holiday rush because I know precisely what awaits me on the other side; I find massive joy in traveling 1,000 miles to sit in my grandmother’s living room, and my child self is comforted by the predictability.

  But things are about to change.

For the first time in the five years we’ve been together, my husband, Lino, will be joining me on my annual Christmas pilgrimage.

Don’t get me wrong: Lino is an awesome guy who gets along famously with my family. But he’s not part of the tradition, you know?

Much like the Observer Effect, the mere presence of my husband will change things. Rather than enjoying the uninhibited rants and huffs that I love from Dad, he’ll be more reserved because there’s an outsider present. Rather than bonding with my brother in the childhood room we still share, Lino and I will likely be staying with my grandmother. Rather than a leisurely Christmas morning before visiting friends, we’ll have to be picked up early. Things will be different, and I have to admit that it’s spooking me a little.

But you know what? It’s okay for me to be a little angsty about changing a 20-year Christmas tradition. It’s totally understandable for me to feel nervous about subtle alterations to the routine, even if I’m the only one who picks up on them. When the rock in the river shifts under your feet, it’s 100% normal to be freaked out.

This time of year is about family, togetherness, love, and connection. Bringing my husband into the picture may change the framework of my childhood holiday, but it’ll add so much more than it’ll take away. We’ll be together on Christmas for the first time ever, and I’ll get to share much-loved places and people from my past with him. Just thinking about that gives me warm fuzzies. And isn’t that what Christmas is for?

It could be the start of a new tradition.

_Ellie Di is a headologist, spiritual nomad, , compulsive scribbler, compassionate critical thinker, and master of the delicious mess.  She spends her days working towards her next level of awesomeness, writing like a motherfucker, and plotting the next Big Thing.  You can stalk her on her site, The Headologist, Twitter, Facebook, Google+, or Pinterest. 

_

The Return of the Light

  The Christmas holidays are very different for me now that my children are grown.  If I had to describe it I would say our Christmases are simple, light and easy now.  When my kids were younger there was lots of worry about gift buying and wrapping, cooking the Christmas meal, getting the house together for company, etc.  Now since only one of my children is still at home, Christmas is a small quiet celebration focused on my son and I enjoying our time with one another.  

There isn’t a lot of holiday shopping in our home—it usually is done in one day and we do it together.   The gifts are mostly things that my son needs—with a splurge or two.   This year I am hoping to make some hand made items.  I like the idea of gifts we can make together, so I think we will probably make cookies.  My son is a very good cook and I like the idea that our love will be going into each of our sweet gifts!  

The main focus of our holiday celebration is getting our tree and then decorating it.   This year I want our tree trimming to feel like a party, so I am going to add favorite foods, Christmas tunes and my son’s favorite holiday beverage—Sparkling Cider.   We will also take some fun photos as we untangle lights and get the tree up so that we can send pictures to my daughter who lives in Switzerland.  

Lastly, I’ve decided to go on a weekly holiday date for myself this year—and these dates have a couple of important parts to them.   An example of the first part might be a walk in my neighborhood to take photos of holiday decorations or some photos near where I work (I work near the beach in Santa Monica, California).   I feel like I need to create some traditions just for me since my children are grown-ups now.  There is a shift in what the season means and I will be looking to redefine what it means for me personally this year.

  The second part of my holiday dates will be doing some journaling work.  The idea is that I will be taking photos of things that uplift and inspire me and then taking the photos and pairing them up with affirmations for myself for the coming year.  This is the season the Light returns and this is also the name of my holiday journal.    I hope the returning Light brings joy and happiness to you and yours!