This is starting to become a family tradition of ours, going for skis on Christmas Eve. Last year it was a tour up to Lost Lake, and we had so much fun we vowed to do it again. This year, for some reason, we decided to go to church, a place Elaine and I have not been in two years and in this particular church, full of past memories, at least half a decade. It was dissapointing and anti-climatic. The crowd looked like they were there because they had to be, the minister uninspiring, the music off key. I believe in a god, but I don't think he hangs out here. God is inspirational, energized and full of goodness. This experience was none of the above. I suppose we were looking for Christmas spirit – oddly when working retail you get so wrapped up in everybody elses experience that you drop your own – but we came home feeling empty.
What to do? What we always do, head into the hills to find inspiration and closer to god. We found it out there. A light snow falling, a full moon, nature at her finest. The mountains were glowing, the woods peaceful, the trail up crossed with tracks of hare, fox, coyote. Instead of feeling drained, we felt alive. We laughed, we sailed, we used our bodies in honor of the earth and higher being. It was perfect, and it will be a tradition in our family for Christmas Eve way before regular church attendance. Merry Christmas to friends and family…especially my mom and dad, the best mom and dad ever. Much love!