It is quite a strange Christmas for me this year. I will spend it at home, after many years of wanderlusting. I will be staring at four walls so to write… my next novel to be shared with you!
This is a Christmas that looks like a come back: back to me, to who I am, to my long time loved ones, to the places where I belong, to the ones who came back into my life and the ones who are challenging their hearth with me for the first time.
I don’t really like life balances – you know I am not good at numbers – and therefore I don’t like the occasions I am forced to face them. Christmas is one of these. I associate it with figures that don’t add up. I’ve always lost something at Christmas. Something or someone. I have stopped preparing the Christmas tree and putting up Christmas lights and decorations. But it’s also true I am a stubborn and romantic optimist, a storyteller. I believe in surprise endings, turn of events and happy endings against all odds. I believe in odysseys that generate the everyday heroes, because we are all heroes in our lives.
This is what I am giving to myself for Christmas: the possibility of a different ending, a new adventure, another version of me and my story. At the very end, Christmas is like a collective Baby Shower with a baby and lots of gifts all around. Just try to imagine you were that baby. Rise and give yourself new chances. Be the baby you have always wanted to be. Love like you want to be loved. Treat yourself. Find yourself. Be your best gift.