Christmas Eve, Christmas Past (Vilcabamba, Ecuador)

I am normally mister Christmas Spirit during this time of year, but it is different this year, despite my attempts.

Yesterday I walked with my two Israeli friends to a bookstore here in the town of Vilcabamba where we ended up chatting for a long time with the storekeeper named Raquel.  She told us how Christmas is very hard for her, it brings up a lot of sad memories of her husband who died on December 26th, 2002, almost exactly 10 years ago.  And yet, she still tries to make her family, her children happy on Christmas morning with smiles and gifts wrapped under the tree. 

And so now here I am, in a foreign country with no family by my side, no partner at my side, and with friends and acquaintances that I have only known for 11 days or less.  As we speak, the meditation centre, where I am currently living, is somewhat preparing for today´s events.  An 80 year old man named Pondo who lives at the centre will be dressing up as Santa Claus and handing out ice cream to about 170 children. He is a veteran from the United States, has long long white hair and a long long white beard, so for him to pull off a Santa Claus outfit won´t be too difficult. On Thursdays and Sundays he guides a meditation sitting using mantras and chanting and so I was a little surprised to hear that he also celebrates Christmas.

I can´t help but think like Raquel, to think about the anniversary of Christmas, the memories of the past.  Us that have grown up in a Christian society, or a western society for some, have been conditioned to feel that Christmas is so important to us, it is a time to be spent with loved ones, to conjuer up our inner spirit of giving and joy. Therefore, when we are not in the proper surroundings, perhaps then we feel as though we are missing... something. In reality, it is just another day that means nothing to a few billion people around the world.  That´s right, billions.

I miss my grandma, my Lola.  She reminds me of Christmas, with her joyful smile and her bright energy that she had at Christmas time. I remember always helping her each year to put up her 5 foot tall Christmas tree, she would always be so excited to decorate it with me, to plug in the lights of those little reindeer she had attached to Santa and his sleigh, to put the tinsel on each branch, and to eventually fill the empty space underneath with a multitude of gifts for, what it seemed like, every single person she had ever known in her life.  She left out nobody. She would bring together all the extended family on Christmas day and connected us all. Such joy. In many ways I think I took after my Lola, she passed that spirit down to me. 

And so now, perhaps it is only because I am seperated from my family at friends this year, seperated from my partner of 12 years that is no longer a part of my life, I feel as though my spirit is not with me.  It is interesting, my Mom (and dad) are in the Philippines, my sister is in Australia camping with her partner, my brother is on a flight to California, and I am in a hippy town in the south of Ecuador staying at a Buddhist meditation centre. Our house in Canada is empty.  No tree, no lights, no gifts, no music, nothing. Emptiness.
However, the other day, the five of us, our whole entire immediate family was able to skype and chat for a long time. I honestly think that is the first time all of us have had a full on family conversation in 11 years, since my father moved to the Philippines. Technology.

One year ago in Calgary carries a lot of pain with it. Something so special to me was attacked with words and actions. Words and actions that have been forgiven, but not easily forgotten.  I wonder for how many Christmases this feeling will last for. Perhaps the first year is the worst. One year anniversaries are often the most pronounced, in my mind at least.  To be quite honest, I am glad that I am not in Calgary this year. I am content to be in a distant country away from the origin of pain.

It is hard though, to go on facebook and see all the well wishes everyone is sending out, knowing that back home everyone is celebrating, feasting, sharing, exchanging gifts and good cheer.  As well, to know that my good friend Jimmy is now back in France as of yesterday, enjoying all his customs and traditions.  I am doing my own thing I guess and there´s nothing too wrong with that. 

The other day I celebrated Hanukkah with my two Israeli friends, they invited a slew of people to the meditation centre and cooked some food and told the story of Hanukkah to us all. They have such a welcoming vibe to them and I envy it. I thought perhaps I could do the same thing for Christmas, but I am not them. 

So what am I doing for Christmas this year?  In about two hours I will put on my smile and take photos of Santa with the children. Two hours after that I will meditate, using the Tonglen method in which we think of all the suffering in ourselves and in the world and use the pain to create a healing for us all, and two hours after that from 6 to 9 in the evening I will partake in a sweat lodge ceremony.  The ceremony is not of Budhhist traditions but of North American Native traditions, a ceremony that will cleanse the body of toxins and bad spirits, and will bring a sense of renewal and healing to those that will be open enough to feel it.  I look forward to the sweat, perhaps the reasoning is obvious.  And tomorrow, Christmas day... I don´t really know. There will be a couple of meditation sittings that I will join and then hopefully those of us at the centre will feast on some food in the town centre. 

Am I sitting here, wallowing in self pity? Not really, just here on the blog. It is my one escape, to release and observe, to be mindful of what is inside me. A dedicated time to feel and think. 

So for those of you reading this, my mother, my sister, my dear friends that actually take the time to read, please don´t worry about me! I am fine, just going through a process that is much needed. I love you all... merry christmas to you and to all!