Allow me, just this once, to step away from the familiar language of work, business, planning, and analysis. I would like to share a personal reflection, something quieter, more spiritual, prompted by the meaning of Christmas and what this season often awakens within us.
During a moment at work, I found myself reflecting on the sheer amount of time and energy we devote to our professional lives. The planning, the persistence, the constant effort to succeed, to build stability, to move forward. All of this demands enormous mental, emotional, and physical commitment, often without us pausing long enough to notice the cost.
I asked myself a simple question: if I step back for a moment and look at this life from a distance, what do I really see?
What I saw was a routine repeated almost daily. Waking up early, starting the day before sunrise, and continuing until evening, five in the morning to eight at night, with very few exceptions. Days pass quickly, almost silently, until suddenly one year ends and another begins, and we find ourselves starting again from the same point.
I do not know whether this feeling has anything to do with turning fifty. Many sayings associate this age with moments of reconsideration or so-called folly. I cannot say whether it is folly, but I do know that it feels like a quiet warning, one that becomes louder during the Christmas season.
At this time of year, I feel a deep need for a pause. Not just a physical break, but a mental and emotional one as well. A pause to do things differently. To help those in need. To visit the elderly. To care for those who have no one to care for them, of whom there are many, despite the presence of charities and institutions.
I feel the urge to bring joy to people who have forgotten what joy feels like. To make someone smile. To remind them that they are seen. In truth, this is the kind of joy I realize I need myself. It is different from the joy of achievement or success. It is quieter, deeper, and harder to define. It is the joy that comes from giving, from creating moments of peace and warmth in the lives of those who feel forgotten, as though they passed through this world unnoticed.
What struck me most is that this feeling emerged before any action was taken. And perhaps that alone is proof of the beauty of the human spirit, of its sensitivity, and of its need, from time to time, to see life through a different lens.
I wish you all a Christmas filled with peace, reflection, health, and quiet joy.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Christian Mansour