Christmas star snowball fight

To me, the beautiful thing about Christmas is simply the promise of hope. Hope for joy and for love and for redemption. It is a time to slow down, take stock of what is truly important to us and rise above in aspiration of something transcendent. This is the purpose of symbols, they guide our story. Ultimately, we are all just adventurers lost at sea and in need of a beacon to guide us home. Ultimately we are always searching for the Christmas star.

This was sort of my thought today when I heard of the great “conjuction” which hadn’t happened in nearly 1000 years. Also, it was a great excuse to do a thing in a time when “things” are hard to come by. So we hatched a plan, I told my family of the astrological significance of this event and we voyaged with an air-pot of hot cocoa to my buddy’s Rob’s house to catch a glimpse of the Christmas star.

This Christmas is already defined, like everything else, by the pandemic. Moreover, our general attitude towards life is intrinsically handcuffed to the social realities of this year. Basically, shit had been a bummer and everything seems to be either an acceptance or a reaction to this fact. But another truth remains; life is a beautiful, hopeful, redemptive thing that is ours for the taking if only we have the courage to try and the love to sustain.

I felt this love tonight underneath the twilight glow of the setting sun as I scooped handfuls of snow and shaped projectiles which I hurled with great joy towards the distant faces of my closest loved ones.

God bless a good snowball fight.

Some tears were shed but mostly we laughed the kind of laugh that defies what would otherwise define a year like 2020. We frolicked in the snow like wild things unattached to the constraints of this boorish reality and regained our humanity in the process. We had been lost at sea and this snowball fight was a sort of guiding star.

And then the sky grew dark and the sparkling, glimmer of the Christmas star shone bright above the horizon. We all paused and gazed skyward with a newfound appreciation that would have been impossible without the joy of our snowball fight.

It was just a tiny, silver dot in the sky yet somehow it was so much more. It was the affirmation of a lovely existence, the sign of changing times and the proof that hope is real.

The Christmas star… it was truly a beacon of hope. The real Christmas miracle is simply this; the power of hope.

It is with this thought that I wish each of you the merriest of Christmases. May the light inspire your heart upon the horizon of your soul and may each of you find solace upon your own Christmas star.