Julie Wong - BLOG -

cafe s'il vous plait

a thick, cozy bowl of tomato barley soup

a crumbly slice of golden cornbread

a plastic cup, full of root beer soda and chips of ice

white plate, black edge, strawberry rhubarb pie, pink inside

Joy to the World

 
coat and purse, St. Clair Hotel, Vancouver

I am a family of one.

Well, sort of. I have two wonderful {delightfully exuberant} parents, two incredible younger sisters {beautiful women!} their partners, and a handful of aunties, cousins, uncles, and various adopted tribe-mates. I've never, ever lacked for love.

As of recently, I find myself, for the most part, walking the world alone. There is no one through which I filter my daily interactions, my weekly accomplishments, my yearly schemes. Me falling into the world, in love with the world, headlong, wind blowing my face, whipping my hair, as I travel carefully, carelessly.

There are certain moments, certain transitions, certain stretches of time that define us, that remind us of who we are.

This is my first christmas away from home. 28 years old. Is this a selfish retreat? Am I plunging a meat skewer straight through my mother's heart?

Not at all. Well, ok. Maybe a little bit. A toothpick, maybe. She assures me that despite being a little bit sad {it's different when you're a mum} she wants me to have fun on my travels, to laugh, to enjoy, to absorb it all.

So I do, I will.

I ran along the beach this morning, grey horizon, water lapping by little dogs skipping up on the seawall... couples, families, seagull sounds, broken shells and chips of waterlogged wood, trampled into the sand. Water, water, water... and I am at peace.

Peace.

Joy to the world, and peace for all mankind.

A little lady {permed hair} marches along ahead of me, and under her breath, she mumbles, rambles en español. A little boy in a rainbow toque. Big man, wearing a leather jacket, fluffy white spaniel trots beside him on a leash.

As I keep my own beat, feet on the pavement, music swells over me - it is Christmas morning. I hear a choir, a congregation, and an organ, and it is so beautiful, this contradiction between my solo morning run and the swelling sounds of many voices, spilling out of stained glass windows, onto the street.

Police stand stiffly in front of the Loonie Store, a swath of blankets and possessions and two people with their heads bent down, {ashamed?}, their dog barking, shivering, railing against the sadness, the sweetness of it all.

My spirit moves, my spirit stills.

I realize... this is what my Christmas is really about - a celebration of spirit, a nod to the heart... A divine connection with the world.

I am a family of billions.