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Well, another Christmas came and went without the dawn of Christ Consciousness. I was just sure it was coming, but then I hollered and stomped like an encroached-upon moose when Charlie knocked the corner of a side table into my head during meltdown #47 of Christmas Eve day. So much for my enlightenment.

I’d done a real bang-up job of holding my patience in tact until that moment. And, after many more of these unnerving episodes over the next 24 hours—intermingled, of course, with moments of pure joy and great beauty—I celebrated Christmas night with a long chat with my equally depleted husband, a glass of cold gin doused with kalamata olive juice and best-two-out-of-three in checkers with Brian. (Note: Giving myself permission to do something as “unspiritual” as sipping a martini on the holiest day of the year was liberating, a healthy separation from my sometimes oppressive personal rulebook.)

But, really, what a relief. Strange as it sounds, I just wasn’t ready for Jesus to appear in my mind’s eye and grant me a lifetime of unfettered bliss. If I don’t magically attain nirvana beforehand, perhaps next December I’ll be able to ride out Christmas in my heart instead of my head. Why do I make these demands of myself? I am so much more relaxed now that I don’t feel pressure to achieve divine attunement on a specific day. Whew.

Further Christmas reflections to follow but, for now, here’s some holiday levity. My unbridled laughter at the lyrics is perhaps another reason why I did not achieve marked spiritual unfoldment on Jesus’ birthday? Here, a music video parody by Los Angeles comic, Melissa McQueen.

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