What is it about this time of the year that strikes fear in the hearts of grown men and women everywhere?
Is it the mounds of catalogues that are stuffed into our mailboxes enticing us with glossy pictures of turkeys and good linen and elaborate table settings? Is it the tinsel and trees and fake snow in fake windows at the shopping mall that tightens our throat and shortens our breath? Or perhaps it’s the expensive, calorie-laden holiday drinks that the barista is peddling that makes us groan and search for a quiet corner?
Or … is the look I see in the eyes around me actually a plea, a hope, a dream for a soft touch, a quiet love and a gentle walk to the closing of the year.
The truth is that for the holidays, as for many other areas of our life, it is the path we willingly choose that determines our journey. It can be a frantic frenzy that ends with feelings of failure and inadequacy. It could even end with us basking in triumph and personal glory over how special we made everything.