Tis the Season of Magic

I LOVE this time of year. The lights, the smells, the permission to decorate and fill my home with beautiful things. It’s nostalgic, and so warm and cozy. I also love the magic this time of year seems to invoke in the world around me. Chances are abundant to pause and intentionally make moments more special.

Maybe it’s age, maybe it’s empathy, or a mash up of the two - but I can’t help pondering the assumptions that also are made during this time of year, and how to proceed with more grace.

I was just having this discussion with my family last night. How, as a family, do we proceed in relationship with others in our lives, knowing there is such a wide and diverse range of spiritual and religious beliefs around us? At the store the other day, I picked out the prettiest greeting cards, and they showed an image of the nativity from the Christian biblical story. I walked around the store glancing down several times at the choice I had made, something nagging at my gut a bit. I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time. So I put the cards back on the shelf, and decided to pause a bit and wonder about all the feels.

I am not at all a religious person, and I actually don’t call myself a Christian. However, I was drawn to those cards because of the nostalgic meaning that story and scene holds for me. That scene has been burned in my mind since childhood. I so cherished the neighbor who had a lit up nativity scene in their yard every year. I used to stare at it dreamily every so often during the winter months. Something mysterious and magical was going on in that scene and that story, yet out of reach in my understanding as a child. It seemed so important, because many churches front lawns were adorned with it, and certainly the yearly church play was all about it.

As I got older, I developed my own understanding of the stories and lessons I was taught in my Christian religious upbringing. Over time, I developed a more grounded approach to all the nostalgic things this time of year brings: the songs, the food, the messages. I loved those stories, and the people I get to see once a year when I am in my hometown. I, too, sing along with the carols and hymns, a throwback to memories and loved ones long passed on. There is deep meaning there, no doubt. It’s personal. However, alongside the continued embracing of those traditions, over the years my beliefs have also changed.

My deep inner search and longing for my own truth emerged through my own spiritual awakening. I embraced an inclusive attitude to not only my own beliefs, but the beliefs of others as well. Though I grew up in a North Dakota town, I went to graduate school in Boston. I now live in a beautiful and richly diverse neighborhood in Minnesota. Throughout my 20’s and 30’s and today, I made friends and existed in community with Atheists, Pagans, Spiritualists, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, also Christians and some with philosophical or religious beliefs I don’t even recall. The range of how tightly they adhered to the teachings of their own belief systems was mesmerizing to me. I didn’t feel so alone, as I was also questioning my own beliefs.

The conversations I had with those friends about their own journeys didn’t take anything away from my own - actually it expanded my heart and mind as wide as the sky. What I genuinely opened my heart to was the truth that religious, spiritual, and philosophical beliefs are deeply personal and nuanced. There is no one way to believe, and no true right path. I discovered how to break down the walls around my own childhood conditioning that Christianity is the “right” path. What I truly discovered is that it is not ok to make assumptions about others, and especially in a largely Christian dominated culture. It is dominant, because the undertones of more fundamentalist Christian attitudes live and breathe throughout our political and social landscape. They permeate the psyche of this country, just like me when I was a kid, not really knowing what the nativity really meant to me, until I much later. But it was there - everywhere - in the stores, on TV, the messages flying out of the mouths of politicians, and it never occurred to me that could be potentially harmful and hurtful to others who didn’t share those beliefs, or were rejected from their own church communities because of who they are.

I am offering this note, and this message as a reminder to myself and to all of us to remain open this season of magic, and to remember that each of us has our own version of this magic, and it’s incredibly personal. May it be a reminder to get curious about the beliefs of others, and to avoid assumptions and projections onto those around us, especially when we genuinely do not know what they believe or where they stand. Assuming the attitudes and behaviors of the heavily dominated Christian culture we live in as a country is not only insensitive, it is harmful. You have neighbors and friends who have been rejected by the exclusive attitudes perpetuated by the dominant religion in this country. If you are reading this, and are someone who has been rejected by your community, friends, or family for your own beliefs, I want you to know I see you. I am here for you.

Luckily, the majority of my own friends, family, and community are inclusive, and loving, and accept others no matter what. AND, it harms nothing to pause before uttering a greeting that could be super trauma triggering for someone you don’t know that well. Upleveling the deep respect and gentle care for the spiritual or religious or even non-religious path of someone else is a great gift. It is an act of pure love to honor and accept the nuanced, personal and varied magical paths we all walk.

Peace.