We have entered the holiday season, and I have mixed feelings about it. It arrives as the weather here on the East Coast is becoming colder, and darkness comes earlier. I find the transition from the warmth and freedom of summer challenging. It may be cozy to sit with loved ones by the fire and sip hot chocolate, but I enjoy being outdoors, and I have never been a fan of heavy winter coats. I appreciate Thanksgiving, which reminds me of the blessings in my life and to hold them dear. I feel very fortunate to have a loving family, but also sad that we are far apart. My parents are no longer with us, and my brother and his family live 3000 miles away. I am thankful I am close to my cousins, and we celebrate life events and holidays together. I love seeing their children grow and mature, but sometimes I regret that my husband and I were not able to have children, and I fantasize what it would have been like if I had my own. At the same time, I appreciate that there are children in my life, and I can experience their maturation. We are all aging but I have not fully adjusted to the fact that I am now part of the elder generation. All my elders have died. Some friends have lost their partners, and I feel for them and others who are alone this time of year. I am aware that I will be attending more funerals and fewer weddings or bar mitzvahs.

As a psychotherapist as well as a meditation teacher, I know that everything changes, but sometimes, my expectations haven't adjusted to the altered reality that aging brings. I've learned to be judicious with my expectations. My energy level and how much I can do daily is no longer the same. Expectations can disappoint, and losses can be heavier to bear. My aunt used to say, "Life is a package deal," and she wasn't thinking of gift wrapping.  I am committed to living fully and authentically but accepting losses is challenging. As Rumi suggests in his poem The Guest House, can I welcome them all?

To balance darkness I am happy there is a festival of lights. Chanukah candles are lit, and Christmas decorations go up. Trees and houses sparkle with multi-colored lights. The New England Botanical Garden at Tower Hill has created an incredible show called Night Lights. Myriad lights are strung throughout the garden, with little gnomes dotted along the paths and there are fire pits for smores and hot cider, and hot cocoa to drink. I’m like one of the children agog at the display. Of course, being Jewish, I've always had some envy of Christian friends with Christmas trees they could decorate. I light a menorah, and we celebrate Chanukah. It is lovely but less splashy. One year, I put lights on the Ficus tree in our living room and got one of those outdoor laser light projectors. It was fun.

I am glad this time of year is inaugurated by Thanksgiving. This, too, is mixed. So many people in this world are now suffering and don't have a home or enough food to eat. Thanksgiving in this country does not adequately honor the indigenous people and tell how they suffered with colonization. The story told in schools must change, but the premise of giving thanks, helping each other, and sharing warms my heart and reminds me to be more generous. 

My awareness of the blessings in my life has expanded. I can't forget how sick I have been in the past and how lucky I am to be alive. I give thanks for this miracle. I give thanks to the fact that I can share my life with David, a loving husband, and my family and friends. People age, get sick and die. This includes me and those I love. I can't help worrying a bit about the length of time we have. But we are well now, and every day I say thank you for the support I have. Without David, I would not have driven over three hours in Thanksgiving traffic to celebrate the holiday.

It is  the third generation that is carrying on tradition. My mother was very close to her brother my cousins' father, and we kids would celebrate holidays with our parents. It was often a raucous time. This year, Justine, my cousin Sherry's daughter, and her husband Chris hosted us in their new house with their two small children, us elders, her parents, in-laws, an aunt and uncle, and one of their children and her spouse. We elders appreciated being there without responsibilities or running around and being hassled by the work involved but it felt strange to watch the "kids" scurrying around preparing the meal and doing very little. Even so, I missed my afternoon nap and  I wasn't accustomed to being asked if I needed help when we went for an after-dinner walk (or that it was necessary as the ground was uneven and rocky.) I am proud. and I didn’t like admitting that it was helpful. It was a taste of dependency to come.

David and I are not ready to leave our home, and we have yet to downsize, but we know changes will have to be made. We acknowledge our fears, but we are reluctant to move. Mindfulness is about facing what we fear and keeping steady. My Dad used to say, "Getting old isn't for sissies." He also said, "You can't get to the other side unless you leave the shore." And then there is Leonard Cohen who in Anthem sings,

"Ring ring ring ring ring.
Ring the bells that still can ring 
Forget your perfect offering 
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in 

So, I savor this moment, the cracks, losses, and gains. I trust, laugh, sing, and remember that there is a light in everything. 

Connect to what nourishes. Love the good, face the fear, and let the light get in. 

I look forward to honoring this holiday time and sharing what it means for us this Thursday, December 7 at 11AM EST. If you are new to the group, please register. Friends are welcome.