We get knocked down, but we get up again.
The last four years have been tough. And, yeah, by that I mean 2020.
It has been a moment, and methinks it’s worth acknowledging it. So drop a pin: We are here. I am here. You’re never gonna keep me down; I’m a survivor. And if you are reading this, you are a survivor, too. Incredibly fortunate as well (look around you). This world ain’t kidding around, and we only make it harder for ourselves. Yet here we are. Still learning about ourselves and, fingers crossed, growing as people and as communities, as cultures, as the culture of Earth.
And so this is Christmas (and what have we done).
No matter what happens, Christmas, like the seasons, always comes. One of the tenets of GratitudeFest is taking stock, and ’tis the season for it, alright. We been doing this already, when we get to every December and start talkin’ about who’s been naughty and who’s been nice.
I have come a long, long way together with myself, through some hard times and some good, and this Christmastime I have decided to celebrate me, baby. I even said so out loud last night, when we picked up our first-ever Christmas tree as a family. I know it’s way wasteful, but it’s a cute little Charlie Brown-looking thing, and I did inquire about using it as fireplace firewood on New Year’s Day – a no-go, I’m afraid.
Bit I digress.
I think that, in spite of everything that happened this year (and I say this with gratitude for the challenges, opportunities, and accomplishments, and the pain I felt, owned, and released), I made good on my wish for 2020 to get upconscious. Only way to overcome and carry on, just ask my Pandemic Peeps.
And so, as this point in my pursuit of happiness, peace, and joy, and of my most authentic self, I have to praise me like I should, y’ know. It’s the only thing we can do for ourselves that will help everyone else. I did this (this is what I did). Plus, we did it.
Now let’s get it.