i have never been a christian
and i only really celebrated christmas
when i was young and full of
the influences of my parents
and the hopes and dreams of stuff
provided by santa claus and elves
and eight magic reindeer
(nine if you count the jewish one)
(which i absolutely do, now that i know)

christmas meant a lot more to me
when my family was near
and the holiday was important to them
but it never fully felt like
a religious experience–
it was a family experience
a consumerist experience
a mostly joyful
pretty fraught
pressure-filled
capitalist
kind of
time of
year

and there is something to be said for the coziness it provides
and it is always good to have loved ones by your side
but i never really understood how a holiday
based on stealing pagan celebrations
and not at all the time of year
of the actual birth
of the ‘savior’
could hold so much over so much of the population

but

put into perspective:

these traditions are far older than the oldest known time of christ
so i suppose i can see how that might
influence a whole boatload of the population;
the earth still cycles
and we as residents of the planet feel it
even if we don’t acknowledge that feeling

and

another way:

as the earth cycles
and time is a mortal construction
the celebration of a loved one
need not be on the actual day of an event—
so i could see
a birthday party for little jesus
many months delayed
just to be able to celebrate
when everyone can get together

so i suppose
i’m not as jaded as when
i began this poem
but i started it intending to speak
of new traditions/
experimenting with traditions/
very non-traditional traditions/
but if the point of traditions
is to have loved ones near
(physically or simply
in one’s heart)
i think i’m celebrating
this time of year
pretty darn well.

happy merry to those who celebrate,
and have a wonderful day to those who do not,
and anyone like me
who is still figuring out what to believe
about the malleability of time/tradition/religion/self
i hope you too have
a lovely day
a lovely meal
and some lovely folks
to hold dearly dear

this may be the end of this poem
but is certainly not the end
of this contemplation.

l’chaim!