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Dear Santa Claus

I’m going to say something brave.

I was nice this year. And I’m not ashamed to say it.

No, that doesn’t mean I never lost my temper, or that I didn’t ever get upset about people’s actions.

It doesn’t mean every other person I met was nice. Lots of them were, but many were not.

It doesn’t mean nothing bad happened, or I didn’t deeply consider decking anyone across the head. It doesn’t erase anything bad or mean or cruel.

I was nice to spite the cruelty in this world. I tried to be always kind, despite so much rudeness in the world. Sometimes I tried to be kind because of all the rudeness.

I was nice because I like being nice. I kept a mindful eye on thoughts of anger, of envy, of vengeance. Natural reactions they may be, but even without action cause unseen pain in my heart. I planted seeds of compassion, and worked hard to forgive those who spread so much of their pain around. If they didn’t have so much hurt, they wouldn’t need to share it with others.

I was nice even though society thinks kindness makes you weak. I was forgiving even though it’s seen as a surrender. I was kind and felt neither weak, nor defeated. I was kind, even to those who I knew would extend none of that kindness to me. I was good, because I wanted to be good. I was good because the world needs more good. I was good because I decided that the bad that’s been done to me, ends here. I’ll take it in, swallow it up and spit it out as joy and love because that’s what I’m in this life to do.

And there’s nothing that pisses off someone who wants to oppress you more than to see you full of love and happiness despite their attempts to hold you down. And if spite is what it takes to be kind, then spite them all. Blessed Yule, Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, May your New Year be full of kindness and joy and if it doesn’t show up in time, make your own.

Love, Oona.

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