Chapter 109: Sharing Presents
Today, I write a blog entry in an attempt to bring comfort and hope to those feeling slightly less Hallmark happy than we “should be” at the holidays.
I find that the holiday season is both a magical time and a challenging time. It’s a time of coming together with loved ones, yet an empty chair also reminds us of who should be present but no longer is. It’s a time of traveling home to loving hugs and warm fireplaces, yet a reminder that not everyone is lucky enough to have this type of home to travel to. It’s a delightful time to celebrate the childhood magic of make believe, yet a reminder that we are no longer lucky enough to have the pure, hopeful mind of a child. It’s a time of celebrating with children, and a reminder that not all of us are lucky enough to build families filled with little ones. It’s a time of religious celebration, yet a reminder that we idolize one cultural belief system over others.
I spent a wonderful holiday with my loved ones this year after returning from a long honeymoon vacation in Bali. I know I am incredibly lucky to be able to type that sentence and write this blog with an immense amount of gratitude for these gifts I’ve been given.
I want to tell you all about Bali soon, but first I have a confession. Yesterday, I was the absolute drama queen of the holiday at my in-laws. I had a temporary tearful and embarrassing breakdown instigated by one of my dogs getting momentarily kicked out of the party. I started bawling. Yes, bawling. I stepped away from the party and moped in another room with my pup for a few minutes. Also, this was a totally fair time out for my dog who was acting a bit of a drama queen herself. This was a mortifying, overly dramatic response that I’m sharing very vulnerably on this blog because once the tears cleared, my eyes saw a different, clearer perspective.
Was I really crying because my dog couldn’t sit by me while we opened presents? Of course not. Was I truly going to isolate myself from my family on Christmas because I so distraught that my dog couldn’t be the center of attention? Not at all. But, initially, it sure seemed like it. I even thought I was going a bit crazy for a minute. I sat there, sniffling, thinking “What the hell, Courtney? Why are you having a little Menty B over the dogs?! I could hear my poor husband trying to diffuse the situation in the background as I took my self-imposed time out.
As I sat there, it dawned on me that I was not crying about my dogs at all. As I looked at my dog through tear-filled eyes, what I actually saw was the smiling face of my niece opening her gift, the photos of growing families my friends post online, the vision of my own potential children opening their stockings and the realization that cancer took away the typical Christmas future I once envisioned. Through those teary eyes, I also saw the memory of childhood Courtney opening her gifts on Christmas morning without a clue she would ever have cancer followed by a vision of the future Courtney lying in a hospice bed at home making her family cry.
In a way, it was my own Christmas Carol nightmare. The ghosts of my past, present, and future somehow haunted me in a few brief moments initiated by a dog barking.
I realized my tears were tears of longing: longing to return to the innocent mind of my childhood untarnished by illness or fear, longing for a future that cannot and will not exist, and longing to change the course illness may take me and others to in the future
But then, I blew my nose, rejoined the party and got on with the celebrations. There is a whole lot I can long for in the past or fear in the future, but this moment was a clear example to me of how my longing and fear only ruins my present. My present, my literal PRESENT, the gift of the moment, was being destroyed by my fixation on past and future
Despite a few years of reading, studying, writing, and practicing mindfulness, this was a clear reminder that it is practice (not completion or perfection) for a reason. The practice continues.
I share this story today because I have no doubt that holidays are hard for many of us. Those of us who mourn for the past or fear the future might struggle to enjoy our present. If that applies to you this holiday season in any way, I hope you can find comfort in knowing you are not alone and it’s ok.
The present I hope to open this year is one I want to regift to everyone, everywhere. The gift of shared experience, of compassionate understanding, of acceptance for both the tears and the smiles of a celebratory season. The true present is the present: right here, right now. I hope we can all cherish it together.
Fondly,
Courtney
©CB2022
Photo: Shari Fleming Photography
PS- I reread this after posting and had to add a little thought. Drama queen is a pretty sexist term. Where are the drama kings at? Just food for thought.