A season of tenderness

I'm reminded, speaking with several friends and spending time with my own self, this is a season that calls for tenderness. The wounds and ghosts of Christmas past, our longing for belonging and to be loved, seem to rise to the surface at this time of year.

For me, Christmas music can warm my spirit or bring me to a memory of loss. I'm aware that my awareness is higher than normal. I for one am glad. I want to see the ghosts a little clearer, question my agreements, understand what's at the base of my operating system. But none of it is easy.

Four good friends are looking at their families (of origin) and wondering if they really have to continue to behave the way they do. I'm right there with them. Faced with the family I have and love while longing to drop the messages of the past for a present of kindness and love and trust.

Magical child thinking.

Hard work for the adult I am. And in this season, I need tenderness while I'm in the midst. So, I'll stop, take the beat and decide the next behavior or response without reacting. I'll also pray, slow down to light candles and do some quiet things that warm my own heart.

And I promise, at least for this year, to be very aware, that you just might need some tenderness, too.