I’m going to be honest. This Christmas was a struggle for me. I’m usually pretty easygoing. Kind. Live-and-let-live. But somewhere between the decorations, the food, the forced cheer, and the excess, I felt… feral. Not in an actual punch-someone way. More like an internal, eye-twitching, “I need to stare out a window for a minute” way. I watched everyone enjoying themselves and thought, Why can’t I get into this? The food didn’t hit. Opening gifts felt strange. Christmas movies felt hollow. The decorations, the waste, the repetition… for what? The birth of the biggest spiritual scandal in history? 😬 When you’ve spent the better part of a year learning how religious stories were shaped, borrowed, edited, and used to control the masses, it’s hard to suddenly slip back into wide-eyed celebration like nothing happened. And yet… here we are. Because Christmas isn’t just a religious event anymore. It’s a family tradition. A memory-maker. A nostalgia machine. It’s love, togetherness, childhood, warmth. Things that matter deeply, even when the original story no longer lands the same way. That’s where I felt stuck. Spiritually homeless between nostalgia and truth. Not wanting to ruin it. Not able to fully believe it. Trying to hold it all without snapping. And yes, every “Keep Christ in Christmas” bumper sticker activated a very sarcastic inner monologue. Not because I hate Christ, but because slogans don’t allow for nuance. Or history. Or personal evolution. Or the reality that some of us are in the middle of a massive unlearning. So here’s my honest question, because I know I’m not alone: ➡️ How did you handle this year’s celebration? ➡️ Did you lean in? Check out? Feel irritated, sad, nostalgic, detached, or conflicted? ➡️ Did it bring comfort… or highlight how much your relationship to religion and spirituality has changed? No right answers. No debating. Just real reflections. Because if you felt a little unhinged, a little tender, or a little lost this year, I see you.

Someone left a post about sacred orgasms on FB. I though that you may like to see my comment:💖 Aren't the entrances of cathedrals supposed to be vaginas? There are roses above them, aka clitoris? This is the path to God. In "Secret Teachings of Mary Magdalene", by Claire Nahmad, she talks of The Rose of Sharon, aka a giant entrance in the Heavens with a rose at the top. The rose is Mary Magdalene. There's a story in "Hot Chocolate for the Mystical Lovers Soul" it tells of a woman who has cancer, goes out of body, sees a giant vagina in the Sky, enters it, and is healed upon her return to earth.