The Season

We received a gift of one of those little boxes of meat, cheese, crackers, nuts and the like. After it sat on the kitchen counter for a few days, I scooped it up and put it in my car. This box needed a better home. Perhaps the home of someone without a home.

Driving around, running errands it wasn’t long before I knew where it belonged. Tattered sign, tattered vet. I motioned him over and handed him the box. He looked surprised. I looked him in the eye. We had a moment. I said Merry Christmas. He said bless you. I smiled and drove off.

And for many moments after and throughout the day, I felt that connection. Deeply. Human to human. It reverberated powerfully and I had a sense that despite what the ads tell us, that is where the spirit of Christmas resides. Sharing a moment with another human.

I see you and you see me and contrary to what we look like on the outside, we are indeed made of the same material. And connected.

And then there have been some moments with my son, Kyle. As a person with autism, one of the  natural ways humans show connection, eye contact, is not so easy. Or natural.

Only lately, there have been some big changes in Kyle. More frequent eye contact. And much more intense. In fact, it seems as though he sees right into my soul when he looks me in the eye. And I see back into his. We have a moment. A deep one.

I see you and you see me and contrary to what we look like on the outside, we are indeed made of the same material. And connected.

Human to human connection. The season.  There’s an extra fragrance of kindness in the air.  When you close your eyes and ears to the ads, you can taste and smell it.

This formless, yet tangible spirit is something we can all experience. No matter our beliefs. Or religion. Or whether we have lights on our house.

 

During this holiday season, and always, I’m wishing you peace, connection, and  moments.

Many many moments.

gayle nobel