There is always a reason to celebrate but holidays is not one of those times. I am allergic to holidays. I hate the hype. I hate the commerce centred planning. I hate the disappointment. I hate the polite family gatherings and wasted money on valueless gifts. Mostly I hate that there are many, many lonely people that hate the holidays. Years ago I would go and visit those lonely people. The old age homes filled with sad souls. Abandoned children longing for family. I couldn't stomach it. I also hate being boxed with a neat little label that is supposed to define the essence of each human. Don't tell me when to celebrate. The best birthday to celebrate is an UN-birthday. The best gift is one that has no purpose but to express love. The best time to celebrate is every day that should be made extra-ordinary simply because life is worth celebrating.
We have never worked harder than we do here on the homestead. Don't get me wrong - this is not a gripe - I love our life and I wouldn't change it (except maybe to give us more time off!!) I joke that in order for us to take a holiday (which some countries call a vacation) I have to be pregnant. We simply do not get time off. Weekends are the same. The times that we could really get away to enjoy a holiday/vacation was the couple weeks around the time each of the kids were born. Although, for those of you who have awaited and then passed the day it feels like anything but a holiday. My babies all arrived around the time the whales are birthing but I felt as much like a beached whale as those giants of the sea. However to the sea we always went for the birth. There is something calming about the ocean. One year, on impulse, my husband packed me and number one off to my dad, who lives on a beautiful coastal farm. It was a weekend getaway which became a two week holiday. And it was bliss!
The reason? Family. My brother who I had seen once, briefly, in the preceding 12 years, also impulsively joined us. We laughed. We ate. We shared early morning coffee and ocean view sundowners. We spent hours wandering the beach, splashing in the waves, watching the dolphins, listening to the ocean whispering. We remembered our own coastal childhood on another beach. We celebrated. My son spoke his first word and took his first step that holiday. We celebrated that too!
When reading The Weekend - Nature and you initiated by it took me all two days of the weekend debating the subject. Weekends? My posts are never written on whim or at speed. They take days - often months - and many philosophical musings before I publish (or scrap) the final product. I live in the country. My home is in the magnificent semi-desert mountain range of the Karoo. People pay a lot of money to visit the area. People pay a lot of money to have holidays in the area I am blessed to call home. And yet I still miss the ocean. I only realize how much when I get to return.
There is an expression "deep calls to deep". There is that deep that calls to each of us when we wander along the wet beach with the waves crashing in our ears. Some of my happiest memories are of a wonderful childhood growing up in those crashing waves at every opportunity. Then! Ah. Weekends meant no school!
My memories always turn to the ocean as my most idyllic moments in nature. The ocean celebrates with ever crashing wave and each spectacular sunset over the vast horizon. There is no comparing it. When I think of the ocean my mind can hear the crashing waves and feel the salty breeze and I am comforted. Even a moments stroll in the wet sand is a celebration. I love to celebrate. I especially love to celebrate when there is no reason except being alive! I love to celebrate with those that I love. I still hate being told when to celebrate. I have holiday fever so I best stay away from holidays. But give me any other day of the year and let's make it spectacular!!