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I wrote the following words on Boxing Day of 2025. The day after Christmas, a day, I have always loved. Loving the magic. Loving quiet and the feeling of family and connection. So aware of the fact that ‘Christmas’ is so much more to me. With so much wrapped up with it. No bow, no ribbon; no illusion of that perceived idea of festive perfection, but all ours. Choc full of love and us.“Yesterday I spent time with each of my family. My husband, children, Dad, our cats and my brother (on the phone).It was a quiet day with little fuss. A whole lot of love and gentle joys at home.I’ve found this year, that all things festive, have felt more emotive. More profound. More evocative of emotion and meaning. Christmas carols, candlelight, presents given, cards and letters written. Christmas concerts, time with friends, the decoration of our home, the magic created.A trip home to lay flowers with my Mum. Time spent nearby where I used to live. Conversations and time outside.Each part has felt so enriched by age and by years of Christmases past.I’m now a Mum, a daughter with a Father so frail, and with my own Mum, who I think of often, and whom’s traditions are now so much part of my own.Siginificance of spiritual art and stories of Christmas traditions across the world, have sat with me, and I’ve felt their wonder, and their history eternal, in my now. Like puzzle pieces all converging together, the days are intertwined.Layers upon layers upon layers. Life is not one moment in time, but a convergence of so many moments, across aeons. Time immemorial.It’s all felt more, bigger and, although not entirely ‘better’, definitely richer.Then today, after a long and amazing sleep, I went a run, and felt stronger than ever before, in recent times anyway.I found a nest left unoccupied. I found a tiny feather in my path.I walked, rosy cheeked. Back home.Knowing, that it all just continues. Nest and flight. Onwards. We go.”
