For me, December is a rough month, always has been. The holidays are festive but frustrating. Expectations are high and the letdowns always seem to happen. Then the pace accelerates to a blur with parties and shows and it is exhausting physically and psychically.
Of the 64 Christmases I’ve spent on this earth, some of them simply aren’t as joyous and as high on the ranking as others. It happens. This particular one wasn’t one of my best. In the middle of a month when I am usually gearing up for the big push, I was thrown into an intense scenario that I had little choice about. I reluctantly went through a week of physical and emotional punishment.
Though bruised, I made it through that stretch but when I came up for air, I found myself at the beginning of a crazy schedule that had me going every night from the 20th through new years. I traded one level of intensity for another. I am not complaining. Being mercifully busy was the best thing that could have happened. Besides the obvious financial benefit, I was able to put smiles on a lot of faces. That fed my soul.
In the middle of all this, the strangest thing happened.
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