100 Days of Wonder – #87

I love Christmas Eve. At least now I do. I’m not sure I did as a kid really. My memories aren’t entirely clear though. I remember more snow than I know there was. I remember walking past churches with lovely choirs and organs playing (probably only happened once). I also remember grown-ups arguing and me being bored. There were plenty Christmas Eves at my Oma and Opa’s place in Hamburg when I was little. I always thought German Christmas wasn’t particularly kid friendly – waiting until after dinner, then open presents. Seems like a recipe for grumpy, overtired children. I also remember Christmas Eves in the UK, grandma’s old house which might as well have been Narnia, the dog Timmy which is the only dog ever I wasn’t scared of and the cat Puss who was the most cat of cats and didn’t really like anyone. Loved that cat. Whatever and wherever I suspect I could always be packed off with a book so it’s not like Christmas Eve wasn’t nice. Anyway, I am not a good judge of Christmas traditions because ours have always been muddled, mixing English and German, ‘doing’ Christmas with both parents and, because I am people pleasing me, keeping everyone happy. And my memory is awful too so it’s entirely possible I have just made stuff up. But now I love Christmas Eve because it’s magical. It’s magical partly because I am an adult and pay lots for therapy so I no longer feel the need to keep everyone happy and can do whatever I want without feeling guilty about it.

So, Christmas Eve this year is lush. I picked up our turkey and a few other bits and pieces up from our local farm shop this morning, then I chatted to Kath’s mum about our upcoming Disney holiday while we waited for Kath to finish work. After lunch Kath had an afternoon nap and I checked in on where Santa was on the tracker (thanks Sky TV) and faffed around a bit. So far Christmas Eve has already brought me 2 books in the gorgeous icelandic Jolabokaflod tradition which we have (along with many others) adopted over the last few years. I am about to do some food prep for tomorrow when Kath is done in the kitchen and after tea we are popping down to mum’s. We’ll be in bed early but I will definitely check the skies, just in case – would love to see the reindeer.

So what has this got to do with Disney and 100 Days of Wonder. Well, 2 things I think. I think Christmas Eve is filled with wonder. There’s no pressure, no expectations, in some ways it’s just another day but for those who dare to dream it also holds magic. It holds a ‘but what if…’ and even if you’re just laughing at me now and want to scream at me that Santa isn’t real… Christmas Eve is also an invitation to pause, reflect, be calm. Or at least it can be if that’s what we choose. And I don’t come at Christmas from religion. I am just here for the appropriation of pagan rituals and the magic we have read into the Christmas story and the magic we can experience if we just stop and breathe and scan the skies. Christmas Eve is joy and wonder. And second, Disney has over the years really helped me not care about what other people think. I don’t care if you are rolling your eyes right now. I want you to do you and leave me to do me. Am I too old for Disney? Magic isn’t real? Disney Theme Parks are dumb? Disney is for kids? It’s time for me to grow up and stop being so childish? All of those things have been suggested to me and when they were, I was embarrassed. For a while I made excuses. But I also had to acknowledge that Disney was giving me joy, making me laugh and making me happy. So I stopped listening. You can think what you want and tell me to my face, it really has no impact on me because I know that Disney makes me happy and that magic is what you create in the bubble around you. So I feel perfectly comfortable sharing with you that I will check the Santa tracker several more times, that I get excited about hearing the Polar Express bell and that I will never stop believing in the calmness and the reflective power and the what if of Christmas Eve.