Christmas Tides...

I'm not one of those happy, merry, Christmas-y people who are exuberantly jolly from December 1st through New Year's Day, passing along glad tidings to one and all simply because I am overcome with the spirit of the season.

but Deck the Halls nonetheless...

Nor am I a Scrooge-like morose grump who has nothing good to say to anyone and for whom the very thought of wassailing and gift giving makes me want to tear my hair out in a disgraceful fit of misogeny.

commercialism...erg...

I fall somewhere in between. My glad tidings are more like the tides. They come in. They go out. They come in. They go out. They come in. They go out. It's a rhythm I'm rather fond of.

soothing...and sexy...

I don't necessarily subscribe to the "reason for the season". I don't necessarily negate it. I don't fall over myself to run right out and purchase gifts for a mile long list of people, but those I love will know they are appreciated in a way only they can understand.

words...

This year, Christmas will be very different for me than it has been for many years past. I'll be mostly alone which is not at all a bad thing. I'll be mostly working. Again, not a bad thing. It will wipe out the lonely bit. And in the weeks leading up to and following Christmas, I will be running with the tides.

merry...brainy...bright...zany...

Imagine if you can, a little redheaded Sanderling bird, running full tilt to the water's edge. So daring, so full of excitement to see what tiny treasures have been left for me there. So full of anticipation. Fast, little webbed feet all dressed up in blue satin Manolos making darting moves toward the water.

pretty cute, aren't I...?

Once this little bird, or me in this analogy, realizes that the tide is going to wash in, what does she do? She retreats. Quickly. Pit pat..pit pat...heart and feet in a matching rhythm, running as far and as fast as they possibly can from the encroaching water and all it brings with it.

....whew...

I'm not normally a frightened kind of person. Or a shy one. Or someone who runs from adventure. And I most definitely throw myself face first into the ocean whenever I am near it. But sometimes life is like the tides. You aren't always sure you want what it gives you. Or, you want to embrace every rushing wave, every heart pounding toss onto the shore, but still you fear the undertow will suck you in and bruise you. So you retreat, Sanderling fashion, and try very hard not to break a heel.

..i should probably invest in some sneakers...

I think this is what comes of being neither a Christmas lover or Christmas hater. It's not that I am indifferent to Christmas. It's all very lovely. I just find myself sometimes wondering what it wants from me. Does it, like the tide, want to wash over me with goodness? Or fear. With warmth? Or icy cold. With promise?

trepidation...laced with want...a Christmas conundrum...

Well, Christmas is about hope, right? So while I'm vacillating over the next week between cheering all and sundry to have the merriest Christmas ever, which happens to be a job requirement, and wanting to hide under the covers until it's all over and I know I can balance in the sea washed sand, I'll at least be doing it hoping for the best.

maybe I'll dip in just one tiny toe...

Thanks to all my readers for a wonderful year. And if you want to wish me Christmas greetings, shout them out to the sea. They'll reach me eventually on the tides.

at Redhead Point....

 Emily