xii. It has everything to with a spark of the divine.
All of the guests had left, except for Ishaan who slept on the love-seat. Kate wrapped a quilt around him, pulled on a winter coat and stocking cap, laced her running shoes, and headed out to the wharf.
It was that strange, quiet time between night and dawn.
What had it all been about?
What had she sought, all those days ago, when she’d called her mother to see about Christmas?
Had she sought this?
She had sought something more…
More than a vacation in Hawaii.
Certainly more than the media’s hype of buying things to fill that void.
She had sought to discover what it was that the void was, in actuality, and what might, actually, fill it.
And she had discovered that it could be filled with music.
With the longing for magic, and maybe with a bit of magic itself.
She had discovered that turning towards was easier than turning away.
She had discovered that other people, too, have this impulse towards generosity, towards sharing, towards coming together.
She had discovered that all are welcome.
All is welcome.
Every part of being human is part of Christmas, even the brokenness, even the hurt, even solitude, and even company. All are welcome, the man sent to kill as well as the girl who stashes her gifts and the old woman who forgets to take her meds.
Christmas embraces all-that-is.
Her phone chimed with a text from her boyfriend.
How was your Xmas, babe? Miss u. Next yr, I’ll be home. Data-crunching. Report writing. I’ll be back. And then we can have a real Xmas. Make it up to u.
That would be nice next year to have Christmas with her boyfriend. But it wouldn’t be better than this year.
If she were lucky, and she resolved to be, she’d store the twelve gifts she’d received, so she could open them throughout the year, so that she would never forget what she had learned, what she had felt.
We have Christmas because we need it. We need to discover what is real, what we truly are, what it means to be human, which includes all-that-is, which contains, inside of us, this great immensity of it all–the spark of divinity within a human form.
Christmas acknowledges the birth of that spark, and Kate resolved that night to keep it burning all the year.
Author’s note: How fun it is to collaborate with The Sims 4! I had a general idea of what I wanted to express in this series, which is my understanding of Christmas,that it can represent to us what it means to be human–all of it, including pain, loneliness, joy, bliss, and that at its core, our longing for Christmas magic is our longing to experience our true humanity: a corporeal form through which the spark of consciousness flows, and the alchemy of consciousness, in “turning towards,” as it infuses our being.
I wanted to tell this story, initially, through Kate’s encounters with the people she met. I’d planned that she’d meet vendors and, possibly, homeless people in the parks and squares of San Myshuno. But all the vendors were pre-mades! So, I just played the game to discover what Sims the game might generate. (Kate is the only CAS Sim–all the other characters, except for pre-made Geeta, were game-generated Sims.) The game created wonderful characters for this story, especially Bertha, who, for some reason, always showed up in bathrobe or night-gown and slippers. She had the dazed moodlet much of the time, too.
In my imagination, Geeta Rosoya was the neighbor who’d left the boxes of decorations, but Kate never met her until the Christmas party. You can imagine how excited I was when Geeta finally came to the door, with that neighbor-interaction of claiming that something smelled delicious!
Writing SimLit contains such an element of magic–it never ceases to astound me how, somehow, the game seems to pick up on and expand upon our intentions.