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Holidays are S'posed to be Special

Holidays are s'posed to be special.
Christmas spirit.
If you're child of affluent parents
And young enough to be awed
By presents appearing out of nowhere
Then Christmas is magical.
If you're a person of faith
And have the strength to overcome
And a world of non-believers
Then Christmas is mystical.
If your caught up in the struggle
To find something, anything
To give that proves you care.
Or if you're trapped
In a dysfunctional family
Engaging in holiday rituals
That have evolved from ennui
Into active destructiveness,
Christmas is a time for dreading.
Sometimes it's a holiday spent alone
When you'd hoped for a special someone
To give meaning to the season.
The Pride Parade
Viewed by someone
Gang ignored again at the disco
Is anything but special.
Valentines Day
Without a valentine
Is a challenge to many a spirit.
Holidays are s'posed to be special!
How can we make them so?
First let us look to Hippocrates
And make our first prescription
To do no harm.
Do no harm to our loved ones
Starting first with ourselves!
When holidays become burdens,
When burdens overwhelm,
Then we need to shift focus
And become like the skillful porter.
Build strength, skill, and grace,
And avoid injury
By holding to reasonable limits,
Getting help,
Or turning down the job.
"I'm sorry, I'm not strong enough for this,"
Is the voice of the sensible apprentice
And also of someone on track to learn
How to remake holidays into
The special they're s'posed to be.
Valentines Day becomes special
When you realize you are special
And you can, in all sincerity
Give yourself a valentine.
Pride Parades become special
Only when what we offer
Is cherished not ignored.
Again we must start with the gift
We give to ourselves.
If others are not buying what we are selling
It's because they're not ready
For our worthy wares.
Christmas is only special
When free of dysfunction.
The hardest thing in the world
And yet the only escape
Is to be functional oneself.
That means being who we are
Not who the crazies demand we become.
The more minutes each day
You can be exactly who you are
The easier it is for you to carry burdens
And the more often
There is faith, and mystery and magic
As gifts appear out of nowhere.
Holidays are s'posed to be special.

17 February 2004

by Bill Cattey