On Christmas

A few days after the big celebration and even longer since I've last written here, I've settled back home in Sydney after Christmas in Cootamundra. This Christmas was unlike any I've had previously, and not just because it was beer in the pool rather than hot cider by the fire.

Lots of things were the same. Too much food, lots of laughter, excitement for presents and impatience from excitement. Family was celebrated and conversation was, mostly, light. But instead of being with my own family, I was with a new one. One that has taken me in and made me feel perfectly at home and perfectly welcome, but with the traditions abounding, I was reminded that they are not, in fact, mine. Christmas was disconnected.

I spent the morning opening gifts from both my families, host and biological. I slipped away quietly during tea and spent an hour Skyping with my family back in Georgia, for whom it was still Christmas Eve, before rejoining the Australia Christmas. I went to bed exhausted and content, but also sad in a profoundly new way. Celebrating Christmas this year was a stunning reminder that for me, this season is not nearly as much about the traditions or the locations or even the people with whom it's spent as it is about the One I am celebrating. But even with this knowledge in hand, the insignificant things still matter. And the holiday season half a world away from one's family can be a discombobulating thing.

Moving to Australia is a marvelous thing. It carries opportunities and adventures unmatched by any other I've had in my soon-to-be 24 years. But it also carries a heaviness, a bittersweet acknowledgement that new hello's do not exist without gravitational goodbye's. As the 12 days of Christmas count down and a monumental year approaches, I am joyful beyond compare, but I miss my family. And I am learning that the two things are strange puzzles pieces. They might not fit together easily, but they are both essential corners. Unless I have both, I won't see my big picture clearly. And it's a picture I desperately want to see.

A very Merry Christmas, from Australia to wherever you are. May your 2014 ring in with a resounding yes for whatever path you are choosing. The things that matter, the people that matter, the places that matter, you will carry with you.

 

These last 10 days

...have been a whirlwind of frustration and satisfaction, stress and relaxation, holiday bustle and slow summer heat. Between the end-of-school rush, Christmas shopping and celebrating, and making the transition to sundresses and shorts (in December no less), I have to remind myself to breathe. I have to remind myself that this is real life; I came to Australia almost six months ago and I'm still here. Happy, content, joy overdosing.

This is a season of acceptance. Of knowing both where I am and where I'm headed, and realizing the perfection in both. With the new year approaching quickly, there rarely seems to be enough time to accomplish the daily routines, let alone leave time for a complicated thought process about resolutions or reflections or whatever. There is only this place, this day, and the promise that it is all getting better and better, up and up.

 

 

Seasons

Our lives, generally, are ruled by cycles. What's trendy, what's next, what's new. Recently, though, I've realized more than ever how much of our lives are ruled by the cycles that come with seasons. We associate certain times of the year with certain feelings and expectations, from fashion to tradition. It's a tender familiarity that makes even the most hectic of days a little more survivable. We always know what's coming, even if it's months down the road.

Moving to the other side of the world changes that. As November comes to a close, I find myself ready for chilly nights and hot cider. I long for weather reports that promise snow even though I know it's not likely. I want long socks and warm soups and miserably cold Christmas tree shopping. Instead, I'm getting a tan (Except the past two weeks which have been cool enough to convince me the hemispheres are merging). And it's made me wonder how much of my favorite things became my favorite things because of what I've grown to associate them with? Is Christmas only Christmas when your breath freezes in front of you?

The past few months have been a whirlwind, and I have enjoyed every second of this not-looking-back season. I'm learning to move forward by pushing forward. I've learned that a daily grind can be a beautiful thing, if you have the right perspective. And now, the desire to look back creeps up again. As the end of the year looms and brings a multitude of changes with it, I have to remember to look forward. To enjoy this hot Christmas and learn from it. Where I was one Christmas ago was different in a million ways, and it's a season I do not want to have again. So maybe the change in the weather is exactly what I need.

Beaches and ice cream and outdoor movies sound like the perfect way to send out this year, don't you think?