We’re Almost There…

November 30, 2020

We’re almost there.

There was a time when the approach of Advent saw me up to my neck in card stock, rubber stamps, cookie cutters, candles, purple fabric, and an assortment of new books for the season. The irony of such excess in what is meant to be a simple and reflective season was never lost on me, but I loved all the rituals so much I just kept adding to them.

Not this year.

We might manage a purple paper chain. And there are some picture books we read every year. This week I have put Sting’s If On a Winter’s Night on repeat and sometimes I turn the lights out and just sit in the dark, soaking in the melancholy sound.

I figure that’s OK.

Although we often speak of Advent as a season of hope, it is also a season of discontent and lament. That is where most of the traditional texts begin–in mourning, exile, longing, and homesickness.

I have a little journal where I write down quotations and ideas that I want to remember. Yesterday I was skimming through it and came upon this one:

“Be an unconditional friend to yourself.

Don’t condone, or condemn.

Just let yourself be who you are.

Allow, allow, allow.

Then see what happens.”

Pema Chödron

This Advent I hope we can all allow ourselves to be who we are. To feel what we need to feel. Allow. Allow. Allow.

Then see what happens.