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… to walk through the forest, with you to breathe in the fresh, clear winter air and let this very special atmosphere work. It is nothing more than a cluster of trees. Nothing happens there. That’s boring. It is so terribly unhectic and unspectacular. But for those who can breathe and smell and feel it, it is a festival of solidarity, with silence and calm and peace, a Christmas, and that can be every day.

… to read a good book and have a story told, about a success, an overcoming, a cooperation, a story that I can find myself in and that shows me that it can be. That’s boring. It’s not like you can tell about it and anyone’s interested. But for those who can recognize and understand it, for them it is a way of finding each other in words, for them it is a feast of understanding and connection across time and space, a Christmas, and that can be every day.

… playing with each other or telling each other, laughing and dreaming, in which we open up to each other and find ourselves accepted, simply leaving the stress and the hectic outside and getting involved with you without thinking about it or doing anything more important would be because that’s the only thing right now. That’s boring. It is so common and meaningless to compare it with the big events, and it is probably what is important, the festival in its calm and tranquility, words that arrive and make something sound, a Christmas, and that can be every day.

… to write you a card or a letter because you are out there somewhere in the world, at least not here. Nevertheless, when I report to you, I find myself in the dialogue with you, even about the most everyday things and my thoughts about you, when I let myself be told the words that feel right and that I know they tell you how much I feel known to you, over any separation that doesn’t really exist. That’s boring. A pure emotional mess, with hunches and possibilities. But whoever can feel it knows that a message, from me to you, can be a celebration, of understanding and encountering and accepting, a Christmas, and that can be every day.

… to eat together, knowing that what we eat has not caused any suffering and thus does not undermine the basic idea of this festival, actually every festival, namely to celebrate life and to enjoy its happiness together, without someone having to give up their life for it, because truly living means letting others live, without exception. It’s against tradition. It’s extreme and radical. But whoever understands it, sees that it is the lack of suffering, the absence of abuse and murder that makes a festival of love such a festival, a festival of compassion and compassion, with all creatures, a Christmas, and that can be every day.

… to be excessive, in loving, understanding, walking towards each other, hoping, longing, becoming, in life, giving oneself, hugging, sharing secrets and laughing. Excessively, because it is not necessary to reduce yourself in what becomes more in the gift. And if you are also convinced that the most beautiful gift is an open hand and a care, you know that things do not make you happy, only that you that I can be you, then you will understand a Christmas that can be that day and any other.