the season and my sadness in summary

after a christmas season filled with the activities of decorating, cookie baking, cocoa drinking and gift giving that was a much closer approximation to how i've celebrated the holiday in the past, i read a statement today that perfectly conveyed why i've pretty much always taken what some would see as a ridiculously extravagant approach to christmas.

the statement was in a book about the celebration of christmas in the southern region of our country, and it was contained within an essay in which a woman was sharing her own almost obsessive preparations for and activities during the holiday season. toward the end of her reflections, she makes the following conclusion:

and there it was in a nutshell. my christmas obsession wasn't about the holidays at all. it was about creating a space that felt like love. a magical, light-filled fantasy reflecting promise and hope and dreams we pray will come true. 

and my reaction upon reading that was that it captured exactly my own motivations and desires for the results of my actions at this time of year. and while it was the perfect encapsulation of my raison d'être during the holidays, this profound statement also carried with it a bit of sadness.

sadness due to, firstly, the reminder of something i came to recognize slowly over time. because as much as i tried to make christmas a special time for the man i loved, this same man, with whom i spent a significant portion of my adult life, never seemed to remotely understand or appreciate what i was trying to accomplish, what i was trying to "gift" him out of gratitude for his being in my life.

the second part of the sadness is that now i am away from that man, but there is no one in my life with whom i can share this experience. it reminds me of that oft-repeated question about if sound exists from a tree falling in a forest without any witness of that action. if someone creates a space that feels like love, but there is no one to receive it, does it really matter at all that the effort was made?

same familiar place

a good new year to all! my apologies for missing yesterday's last holiday season posting. i was enjoying the company of some friends who were stopping over for the night on their relocation trip back east.

i'm taking today to post what was going to be the last song posted of 2015. it's a song that's not really a holiday song, but has a tie-in to new year's eve as it borrows a part of its title from the title of a song that has been traditionally sung as the clock strikes midnight.

it is a song about memories of relationships past of loss and regret and a moment in time when where we are in life is less than what we hoped it would be. it's a place that, a little time after my friends drove away to continue their journey to a new phase of life, i realized that i find my myself very much in.

for those of you who have dropped in for a portion or the entirety of my december holiday music postings, i appreciate your allowing me to share a portion of my favorite music with you. it's showing a piece of my heart and i value this opportunity. i also wish you the very best that 2016 has to offer!

same old lang syne - dan fogelberg

and what are you doing?

i made a reference a couple of days ago that tomorrow night is one of the biggest date nights of the year. today's song is one that was written back in 1947 by frank loesser, a songwriter known for such classic musicals as guys and dolls and the most happy fella. he also is the writer of another popular holiday season song that i've shared earlier this month, baby it's cold outside.

well, in this particular song, the protagonist isn't trying to get his date to stay with him longer, he's actually attempting to get that date in the first place. this is one of those songs that has the kind of sophisticated charm that comes with the standards from the 30's and 40's and has been recorded by countless artists.

i think the version i've chosen is one of the best performed by an immensely talented musical stylist. he is certainly one of the dreamiest singers out there. i may not have an invitation coming my way for a new year's eve date, but i can dream about someone like harry connick jr. asking me in this way. it's  a dream i'd love see come true some day. who wouldn't?

what are you doing new year's eve? - harry connick jr.

i will try my very best

it's been a somewhat challenging last several days as i've fluctuated between being in a good emotional state and a not so great one. thoughts of loneliness and isolation have co-mingled with the enjoyment of the holiday season.

i thought tonight's song, which i imagine at the time was an unusual choice for a holiday album, might provide a break from the gloom that has descended in the quiet of each night. it's a song that comes from one of the most beloved movie musicals of all time, and here is magnificently performed by without a doubt one of the greatest singers of all time.

i have to admit that it's not easy for me to follow the advice proffered by this song (and i believe the tone of this arrangement captures that dynamic quite well), but for tonight at least, i will try my very best.

my favorite things - barbra streisand from a christmas album

and the days are few

i've remarked quite a bit of over the course of this month how wonderful the holiday season is. and now we find ourselves at the point that we can count the days remaining in the month on one hand with fingers left over. even with the extension to epiphany, the season will be over by mid-next week.

invariably, i tend to go through some degree of post-holiday season withdrawal. the more i get into celebrating the season the more difficult it is to come out of it with good mood intact. given that i've been far more into christmas this year than i have been in a few years, i imagine i'm in for a bit of a downturn in my mood. couple that with the now daily thoughts of not knowing what i have to look forward to in the new year, and i imagine some gray clouds are on the horizon. eventually, i will find some equilibrium in my mood, but whether i find enthusiasm is the unknown variable.

i know the recurring theme that evokes the most sadness is this feeling of not being at home in the world. yesterday, i shared my thoughts on what was essentially finding a home in the form of a relationship -- a place where i could feel safe to be myself and loved completely and unconditionally for who i am (and i believe that my desire to do the same for someone is just as strong).

the song i'm posting tonight is actually about finding one's way home in truly every sense of the word. it is sung in the form of a lullaby, which seems to be most fitting to convey the sense of comfort and assurance. i hear the words of trusting that because of god's love for us, we will be led home. still, it's been 50 years, and this side of heaven, it would be nice to experience the home i seek.

christmas lullaby (i will lead you home) - amy grant

is this the closest i will ever get?

so we're rapidly approaching the close of this year, and with that, we are headed toward one of the most popular date nights of the year. i have to admit that over the past week or so, i've found myself reflecting on my lonely state and my desire for companionship. with that being stated, i still find myself somewhat conflicted about the form of relationship in which this companionship should manifest.

i'm pretty sure i don't want to be married again, and i know that i don't want a casual thing. i know i want there to be deep emotional and physical intimacy that is long lasting. maybe it just comes down to feeling i need a more immediate presence of love in my life.

i was having a conversation with a new friend about this, and after much stumbling on my part to describe the type of relationship i was hoping would emerge in my life, the best term i could come up with was "a kindred spirit with benefits." it's an admittedly crude descriptor for what i would hope to be a very special relationship, but it is the best i could come with at the time and haven't thought of a better one since.

being able to name the kind of relationship i want is probably the relatively easy part. finding it is another story. i don't think it's just about meeting someone. equally as important is a willingness to be open and vulnerable. because of my experiences over this past several years, i think that willingness is in short supply.

i know a part of life is being hurt in relationships, but what happens when that's all that your experience in relationships has been? how are you supposed to believe that "this time will be different" when that's never the case?

i was sharing with another friend yesterday that what is most frustrating is believing that i have all of this care and affection to pour into someone's life, and there is no one who wants to receive it. i have to admit that the thought of going through another year without a consistent, immediate, intimate relationship causes my heart to sink like a stone through paper. and yet it feels not only like there are no prospects on the horizon, but not even in this known universe.

so the song i've selected to share comes from a holiday album that i have enjoyed for many years. it is my favorite song on the album and expresses how i would like to be in a relationship where i feel this way about someone and he feels equally that way about me. i think it's clear though that i'm losing faith that such a thing can be for me and that the closest i will get to it will be listening to songs like this one.

the gift - jim brickman (feat. susan ashton and colin raye) from the gift