Just being together is generally a good thing. Sometimes it's a necessary thing. We are not so much independent as we are interdependent. Our existence matters to others, and that's why we get together for conversation and dialogue, to sing and dance, to simply be.
The need to be together surfaces intensely during the winter holidays. Perhaps it's something in our genetic code that relates directly to our tribal origins. We gather to remember things we did together, things and people we have lost, traditions we hold dear. We gather to share the stories and beautiful music of the season. We gather to witness the return of the light and to experience our mortality. We gather to celebrate.
And celebrate we do! We bring evergreens inside our homes, stake up a tree and decorate it with fantastic and magickal baubles. We feast and make merry. We grow close and love. Our last days of the waning year are mostly spent in a frantic observance of hilarity and excess, which for the most part, is intended to make us happy. We make magick in the mundane, and it is the only time of the year when it is not only acceptable, it is expected.
We expect miracles out of nowhere. Out of thin air, the most dark, dank, boring everyday parts of our lives are suddenly supposed to be transformed into something glorious. Because...Everything looks better with glitter. In those precious few days at the end of the calendar, we ought to renew and transcend ourselves. Few of us actually know how, and this, I believe, is what causes what we've come to know as the 'holiday blues'. When our high expectation falls flat or is not met, we suddenly sink into the dark and cold parts of our souls, defeated. What were we thinking? Why did we dare to dream? The demon of depression sits heavily on our shoulder, and he has our ear.
The fact is that life goes on, even without us. That puts our existence into perspective. We are here now, and tomorrow we will be gone. What makes that matter is what we do with our time here, and who and what we love. These last few precious days of being gathered together with a singular focus is the only time for some when it is safe to love, as if they need permission or an excuse. Love, however we define it, bids us to come closer. It enjoins us to become one, and our Oneness, our recognition of our being a part of something larger than ourselves, is our true salvation.