the battle between the mice and the toys

I am often cynical, snarky, judgey and opinionated. But at this time of year I embrace another part of myself, the part that believes in magic, that finds nothing more nourishing that a lit christmas tree in a dark room, the part of me that feels a kinship with all people, and experiences a strong desire to hug strangers on the street and tell ladies on the subway how pretty I think they are. I'm fairly sure the holiday spirit is palpable like low pressure or fog. Yesterday, I watched it snow on stage at Lincoln Center, I watch the snowflakes dance (actual ballerinas, snow will never do any "dancing" on this blog, i promise). And when the ballet was over we walked to the subway in the snow, and I told PBT that I wished the holiday season could be longer, that it feels so fleeting. But maybe it is in that fleeting, in the very act of it slipping by that the magic occurs. It is a strange moment when we all are young, and we know it, and we know that it goes. In Our Town Emily is warned not to go back to the world of the living, she is told if she does, to pick a normal day, but she can't help herself and she picks her 12th birthday. Christmas time is this, it is a time we all go back to that is almost too special to bear. Maybe in these brief weeks we can each have a moment to realize life as we live it.

Then we can all return to our snark and our judgements, thank god.