As the shortest day of this year approaches, and the beginning of the various celebrations of light that our family celebrates, as well as the new year, I am inevitably thinking of gifts.
In the midst of the showering of things we can engage in at this time of year, and the danger of valuing the gift more than the sentiment behind it, I set the intention to stay very closely connected to the joy that giving joy brings to me. This is my gift to myself.
As for my children, may my greatest gifts to them remain my deep and abiding love, and my awareness of their essence. May they remember not only the gifts wrapped in paper, not only the gifts from my hands, but also the gentle shaping of their world, my trust in their good sense and their vibrant souls. May they retrieve joy from the hours spent cutting and pasting together, and coloring inside and outside the lines. May they feel it in the whispers of shared questions, stories, secrets. May they receive my gifts in clean sheets and Pasta-Your-Way, in countless hours reading out loud and driving to school and to classes, and the warmth of our early morning snuggles under the covers.
May my gift to my friends and my loved ones be my complete presence, bringing the whole of myself to our relationship. And with that, my open heart.
May my gift to my readers be to gently brush something deep within you: an awareness, a remembering, a yearning, a stretching, a spark.