The day after Christmas

On the day after Christmas the world feels like a quieter place. The frenetic energy of the last few days has calmed. The roads are empty as traffic lights blink to no-one. Some flash only red in rain flooded sulkiness. People emerge into the new day looking sleepy and full. Everything feels full and slow. The fridge is overflowing with leftovers and the dustbin bursts with scrunched up wrappings. New toys, clothes, gifts fill surfaces and closets.

Today feels like the kind of day to sit back and reflect on the good of life

Today feels like the kind of day to sit back and reflect on the good of life. In a world where so much is not good, where crime and grime and ugliness fills our screens, and shrieks at us, it feels like the world needs an equal dose of goodness and gratitude. Today, as a grey quilt softens the sky and cools the earth, I think of how much I have to be thankful for. But as I start to count my blessings I can't help but think of those who are less fortunate.

It can't be avoided, considering the juxtaposition of my life of abundance against the backdrop of many who go without all the time. And it does make me sad but rather than turn away from it I face it head on. I guess the sweetness of gratitude is felt more deeply when paired with a stabbing knowledge of the other side of life. I wonder how to do this with compassion. I wonder how to stand in this place and unzip my protective cover and let the scream for humanity blast out while I stay whole.

Suddenly the world does not feel as quiet as it did a moment ago. Somewhere there is an ominous bubbling. But that is not why I came here today. I came to remember the good and to be grateful. I take a deep, deep breath and sigh it out. Blowing still the bubbling. Clearing my mind and bringing back the light. Today I am grateful. For so, so much. And humble in it, I hope.

Leave a Comment