welcome silent night
listen for angels’ voices
calling you back home
Christmas is one of my favorite holidays. Although I don’t celebrate it as a religious observance, I celebrate the observance of it by others. (That’s a subtle distinction.)
In New York City, you can feel Christmas Eve and Christmas Day even before you step outside.
The streets stop vibrating and humming. A silence befalls the city.
It’s a silence of reverence.
In the early days of the pandemic, I described the city as feeling like Christmas. Most stores were closed, few people ventured into the streets, and the city had that Christmas feel to it.
It’s a silence that lets you hear yourself breathe.
It’s a silence that lets you hear the whispers of your heart — the still, small voice within that we tend to push aside in the hustle of daily life.
On Christmas, everything becomes still.
In our always-on, always-connected world, we rarely experience days like this.
Christmas is special. It is sacred.
It deserves to remain a day of reverence.
What we approach with reverence becomes holy.
Silent night. Holy night.
This is available to every one of us, regardless of our religious affiliation.
A poem for this holy night:
Embracing the silence,
I become still.
I drop in and listen
to the whispers of my heart.
I hear my angels’ voices
singing sweet melodies
calling me home.
Christmas Blessings to you and yours.
May you be blessed with peace, joy, and love on this holy day.