Joyous day and many blessings to you and your loved ones! Thank you for being on this earth. You are a gift to those in your life, some that you may not even know, including me. You are a gift to be in my life, whether it be close or distant.

For many of us the joy part of this season may be natural and easy; for others of us we feel sorrow this time of year and can’t wait for the season to end. This happened to me.

For many reasons, including some I’ve written here, I have been feeling down lately. December is a hard month for me historically, since my mother committed suicide on December 8, six days before my seventh birthday. Christmas, of course, was right after that, so viscerally the memories of loss, worthlessness, and sorrow came up year after year. I either went crazy with decorating, shopping, and parties to mask the grief, or else I was lost down a black hole. This weekend I started to descend into that black hole again. I found myself worrying about many things.

To change the mood, I put on some music and began to dance. Dancing brought up memories, including joyful times as well as sad ones. When Roger Whittaker sang “All that I Want for Christmas,” a waltz I had performed for a Christmas show many years ago, I burst into tears and sobbed for several minutes. I didn’t know what the emotion was, but I knew something deep inside was touched, and I gave myself permission to feel it and let it out. My joy returned.

I think connecting with our emotions and allowing them to be OK helps us to be authentic and to not be stuck. I wasn’t always so skilled, as I mentioned above. Here is the story about how I changed my context from sorrow to joy in December.

In 2003, my new husband helped me to change my context for this season. Jay gifted me with the “Twelve Days of Birthday,” starting on December 8. (He did not realize the significance of this date.) His creativity, planning, and generosity of spirit showed me a whole new perspective of this sorrowful time.

“Twelve Days of Birthday” was a twist on the song, “Twelve Days of Christmas.” He woke me daily with the next part of the song and a gift. On the first day of birthday he sang, “On the first day of birthday my true love gave to me a partridge in a pear tree,” and he gave me a partridge ornament. The next day he sang, “On the second day of birthday my true love gave to me two purple gloves (rhyming with two turtle doves). Of course, the gift was the pair of purple gloves. The third gift was three French pens, rhyming with three French hens, as in the Christmas song. Each day the gift rhymed with the words in the Christmas song. The final day Jay warned me that the gift was coming in the evening, not the morning. At 6:00 pm on day 12 the doorbell rang and exactly 12 friends came bringing the dinner items Jay had requested of them. Instead of 12 drummers drumming, we had 12 tummies yumming! And Jay sang the whole song for the group.

I will always be grateful to Jay for showing me how much I was loved and cared for with this delightful gift. If you are feeling sorrow today, please remember you are a precious gift. Do something wonderful for yourself today, big or small.

With love to you,

P.S. Many people have commented on my authentic and transparent sharing with you in my blogs. If you are inspired or touched, please let me know. And please let me know if you would like a complimentary consultation with me. Schedule your appointment now at to learn how this will benefit you.