Scrooge and Me

I've seen “A Christmas Carol” many times, but the other night when I went with my family, it hit me especially hard.

You see, for most of my life, I was a Scrooge.

The gloom would descend after Thanksgiving, and I’d begin to rail against the senseless killing of trees, the decadent commercialism, and the “phony” sentimentality of the season.

I had a whole story about the holiday, and how it had been “ruined” by my mom’s huge expectations, and her over-the-top dramatic reactions.

This story endured even after the kids came, and perhaps even got worse. Now I felt like I was supposed to pretend to like it all, to put on a happy face.

Not surprisingly, in my inauthenticity, I was a humbug through and through.

Then one year, Anya, my ten-year old daughter, announced: "I don't like Christmas because Daddy always gets so sad."

Oof.  I was devastated.  My wound had become hers.

I went to my men’s circle the next day and did deep internal work around the holiday and my mom.  I dug into my feelings about the holiday:  my sadness, my anger, and my grief;  and I looked at the impact of the choices I was making.

In the process I saw that my Christmas story had grown stale and tired, and that I was blaming it all on my mom, who was no longer living.

With the support of my brothers, I was able to come to a place of new understanding and compassion for her, and I realized I was ready to let go of my judgments and my old story.

To honor my mom and to free myself, I chose to open my heart to the true spirits behind Christmas: service, empathy, generosity, optimism, and love...the very same ideals which I had come to embrace through my work with The ManKind Project.

Since then, I have come to enjoy Christmas and the holiday time.

I have learned to show up and be present for my family, to release my cynicism, and to breathe deeply the scents of pine and mistletoe and eggnog.

Watching Dicken’s wonderful show, I realized that I was just like Scrooge.

Like me, he had his own Hero's Journey, where he explored his past, woke up to his present, and took responsibility for his future. And just like me, it shook him to his bones.

After years of loneliness and sadness, he found gratitude: for being alive, for breathing, for simply being human, and on the morning after his journey, he danced and sang and exulted: "I am a baby again."

As I watched Scrooge open his heart to life, I started crying with joy and relief.

I looked at my daughter next to me, and I scratched her back, and I smiled, and I felt so much love for her.  I looked over at my son and wife, who sat next to her, and I felt so much gratitude and love.

I FEEL so much gratitude!

So to all you men and women out there... you brave and loving guides, you wizards and angels of the past and present, you irrepressible Bob Cratchits, I thank you!

If not for the support of the amazing men in my men's group, my wonderful family, and my beautiful community, I'd still be a Scrooge.  

I would still be hiding in judgment, separate and alone, eating the thin gruel of depression., wishing it were different.

And instead, I am free.

It's a beautiful day, and it's Christmas time, and I am a baby, again.

Merry Christmas Everybody!  And Bless Us Every One!!!