When I was a freshman in college, one winter night I heard Christmas carols coming from Blair Arch, a big square plaza underneath a tower, at the top of a long flight of steps. My 4th floor room looked out over the courtyard and Blair Hall, and with the snow coming down and the choir's voices drifting outward, I felt a great surge of warmth and comfort and joy. (Interesting-- those words came out spontaneously in response to the memory of the scene, with no thought of the song) I had a sense, then, that what I was hearing and feeling was not so much the Christmas spirit, which is one I had not grown up with, but the winter spirit, the knowledge that, yes, it's dark and cold, but the days will lengthen again and we will make it through to another spring, and now is the time to gather together and to celebrate our lives and the earth and everything that has brought us thus far in it.

I'm Jewish, and when I was young I was always amazed at how quickly Christmas was over after all the fanfare leading up to it. My dad used to play Christmas songs on the radio on Christmas day, because he liked them. And one of my fondest memories was another December night at college, 1972, at a tree-trimming party, stringing popcorn and hanging ornaments and singing Christmas carols far into the night, feeling right at home with my friends even though I was a little Jewish kid from Northeast Philadelphia.

This year I've already had my tough holiday. This was the first Hanukkah I've spent without my kids, because my marriage is ending and my wife and five-year-old daughter and 11-year-old stepson are in Oregon and I'm in Hawaii. So I lit the candles every night, and called often, and cried a lot. But now even as I deal with the lawyers and the anger and all the crap I thought I'd never have to go through, I feel that old spirit rise in me and I know I have a good life, a beautiful daughter, a good career, friends and music I can now start to reconnect with, and I know how to love and live. Merry Christmas, everybody, and a very happy and healthy new year.

Aloha,
Mark