The Christmas of meaning

Today we are celebrating Christmas in this side of the world.


At 7am, standing in the sharp and hungry light of the monitors facing me, I think about the meaning of today.


I do not have particularly colourful memories about Christmas, do remember though the moment when I overheard my parents talking about the gifts (which answered a question I would have eagerly asked Santa directly- why are his presents so dull and rare, I sure have been a good child soldier, so why Santa? Why?) but I do have a stringent memory of a feeling- expectance. The excitment of finally doing something I really wanted to do. Finally some days when I wouldn't have to drag myselt to school, or work around the house, finally I could read.


But let's go straight to the point of the day.


In my understanding, Christmas means the birth of a new idea, a new meaning being assigned to a certain thought or word. A new meaning has the power, and also the destiny, to change the whole structure. On a film set for example, or even in a cool living room or under a bridge, a light changes that what can be seen. Accordingly, what can be seen changes the understanding of it.


The same with meanings.


If an event in someone's life is "normaly" considered tragic: separation, having cancer or living through the death of a friend let's say, or being all alone in the whole damn world, or being poor and hungry, or not being understood, or having noone to share.....oops, getting to excited here :) By applying the principle of Christmas we can arrive to the understanding that IN FACT we are not here to be taken advantage of, letting destiny have it's way with us, we are here to give birth to new meanings and change history.


What would be the meaning to assign to a painful event, the death or departure of a friend? - the opening of new possibilities inside yourself. The possibility to see the new self reflected in the people around you. The possibility to make different friends or lose the false ones.

It is this very opening that is hurting or scaring us. And it is this very hurting that is carring the gift of light- understanding.


Since personal history will always have a previledged status, coming before the national history (this being an inevitable codependent relationship anyways) it is at this level that I try to assign new meanings and see myself getting up again and again. Changing and moving forward again and again. Creating something out of (apparently) nothing again and again. Most of the times I feel like shooting myself in the foot with everything I say or do, but then...the understanding comes.


May your ideas be courageous, today, next year and always.


Until next time : let us be here wholeheartely.


Big hug,

Victoria