It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are still alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger for them. –George Eliot
There seems to be an automatic and existential longing in our hearts to experience the holidays as a magical time of warmth, comfort, and love–a desire for Christmas to fulfill our hopes and dreams. The holidays have often been packaged as such, and tied with a lovely bow, beckoning us to believe (cue holiday melody) that everything will be okay and all our worries will melt away once Christmas is here.
The holidays have come to symbolize our yearning for the consummation of such transcendent wishes as world peace. We hope upon hope that the fulfillment we’re promised during this season will carry over and magically revive us all year long. We also hope that if enough of us embody the spirit of the holidays, that incarnation will permeate the world until every being experiences serenity.
I know I secretly desire that to be true. I want the world to be at peace and each of us to know love, joy, and freedom. While I long for that, my experience tells me that humanity doesn’t find peace simply by being in the holidays. In fact, many of us emerge on the other side feeling upset, depressed, and exhausted by the entirety of the seasonal experience. With that in mind, I’d like to introduce a little storyteller who truly personifies what we want the holidays to be about.
There’s a beautiful, little boy in my life with silky, jet-black hair and an olive complexion. His name is Max. If you look at his cherub cheeks—rosy and round, he’s the picture of health. He loves to talk, relentlessly, with few words ever reaching recognizable form as they fly across his lips, rapid and ardent. He’ll determinedly wobble around a room bringing one object from a bin to your hands and back to the bin again, for hours. This is a hard day’s work for him. He’s in the business of learning, and he’s doing it with all the gumption he can muster, while prattling away to the dog, the nearest couch pillow, and the air, indiscriminately. He requires no response from his audience as he boldly and emphatically steps across the floor with a lego in hand, or a ball, or an infinitesimal piece of fuzz. It’s essential, of course, to show you each piece of fuzz as artwork thrust across the canvass of his hand.
This little boy represents everything we want the holidays to be about. He revels in experiencing each new part of his world, filled with wonder and awe. You spend five minutes with him and melt into a puddle of child-like giddiness, only to recover with the inspiration to dance around the room and swing him in your arms, as his infectious laughter fills every nearby corner.
There’s something unique about this particular, little guy. Max is adopted. This small, wondrous being represents the culmination of hopes and dreams to two people who deeply love him. He is a true Christmas miracle. He’s a gift of inestimable proportions. Being with him reminds me of beauty, love, and grace, the essence of things that were once a shadow of hope for two, dear friends. The fortunate parents of this little boy know just what it means to have deep longings. And a year and a half ago they took him home, experiencing the fulfillment of their hopes.
Instead of looking to the holiday season to fulfill our yearnings for the deep and beautiful things in this world, we would do well to find those longings stirred to life in the world we already have—the world we live in, breathe in, and generously occupy every day of the year. Coming in contact with someone like Max is a reminder of the truly beautiful in the midst of the truly mundane.
A predetermined holiday can’t give us what we’re searching for. But connections with people, like this little man, can point us toward the source of those longings. There are people in each of our lives who intersect with us in just the right way that they both unsettle and allure our hearts. Unsettling may sound like a negative word, but it can be shapely and positive. When we are unsettled, uprooted, disoriented, unnerved, and disturbed, we can come face to face with the longings that are intensely rooted in us, ones that would typically stay buried unless there was an evocative person to draw them out. These desires won’t be satisfied by a superficial view of annual celebrations. These desires point towards a dissatisfaction that calls out for resolution. Will you listen to the longings this holiday season? Where do you think you’ll find what you’re yearning for?