Christmas is a lot like sex. The anticipation of it is as big a deal as the actual event, and if the whole thing is not done in love the climax can leave you feeling empty. I thought of this as I scraped the bottom of the turkey pan, cleaning up the last of the Christmas dinner mess. Truthfully, I enjoyed almost every moment of this holiday season. And I would like to take the joyful solstice spirit right with me to the spring. At which time a new energy comes into being. The seasons are always changing. Now we can look forward to a new year. A new beginning.

Do-overs never come. We have one chance, in each moment, to make the most of it. I’m glad that I invested mindfulness in this holiday season. I fumbled here and there, with expectations left unchecked. But mostly I kept my perspective. I indulged my fantasies about “what could be” in Hallmark movies (fantasy is best played out on the big screen), and I tried to keep my perspective about reality. I did my best to let my family off the hook from having to perform for me. And on the big day, I took time away for some solitary ice skating.

It is important to me to maintain a foundation for my family’s wellbeing. Having people to come home to, and traditions to look forward to, help the young ones grow and connects us as human beings. At the same time, old structures can be stifling. The juice of life is in the unknown. There lies the challenge of leading a family. You want to provide a warm and joyful home that provides security, without clipping each other’s wings. Christmas movies make it look easy. It isn’t. Happy holiday gatherings, which is all about relationships, happen because someone’s put the work in.

Holidays can be a hassle. When we calculate the time, the pressure, and the expense that we put into the month leading up to the big day, it can seem like a waste. But, just like with love making, the act itself is only as good as the preceding intention. Christmas exemplifies the power of love and light. When we practice reverence, seek beauty, unleash our own festivity, and give with a sense of joy (instead of duty), the darkest winter night can feel full of sunshine. There is a reason for the season.

I felt a light grow inside of me, in the quiet of Christmas morning, while my family was still sleeping. I sat on my couch drinking coffee, preparing to begin cooking, and reflected on the month behind me. I was intentional, this holiday season, about counting my blessings. I was intentional about keeping my eye on the twinkling lights. I was intentional about creating beauty. Underneath every act of merriment was a commitment to honor my own relationship with the season, and the little girl in me. For a moment, it felt like the time I invested in the ceremony came back to me, and filled me from the inside– like a hot drink. It is a peace I hope to bring into the New Year with me. A gift with the power to keep giving.