I put up a Christmas tree last weekend for the first time in several years. It wasn't easy: the tree is way bigger than I am. But, with the help of the man at the Christmas tree lot who tied it on top of the car, the doorman at my apartment who brought it up to my apartment, and a friend who held it while I screwed the base into the tree, I managed. After said friend left, I put the lights on the tree, and then, I carefully placed my special ornaments, acquired one or two a year over 30 years onto the tree.
Finally, I sat down with an eggnog, allowed myself to be enveloped by the scent of fresh pine, and just looked at the tree. For me, my Christmas tree is a time-travel machine. I am six again. That doesn't mean I am sentimental about old times, because I hardly think about them. When I say my Christmas tree is a time-travel machine, I mean that I am six again, in awe of the lights. It is like I am three feet high again, just looking in amazement at the wonder of its beauty. And, totally present. Not a thought in my head, but joy in every cell of my body.
I've noticed that each time I turn the lights on, it happens all over again. Even when I plug the lights in at 5:20 in the morning as I race around getting ready for work, the tree stops me dead in my tracks. I am six again, mesmerized by the lights. When I was a youngster, I used to like to sleep on the sofa when the Christmas tree was up so that I could wake up in the middle of the night and feel its beauty. Ah...I might just do that again.
What is most wonderful is the ability to totally still my mind into the present moment...now that is Christmas magic!
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