I’ve never been a fan of made-up celebrations. For years, I’ve seen things like Halloween or Christmas as just engines for consumerism, days on the calendar designed to make us buy things we don’t need. I honestly paid them close to zero attention.
But this year, something shifted. Or rather, someone shifted me.
When you become a parent, you start to live on a different emotional frequency. You learn to feed yourself with your child’s joy. My son, Alex, had been waiting for this Halloween for more than half a year. This wasn’t just a day for him; it was an event. He planned everything: the Spidey costume (he’s a massive fan, of course), the strategic meetings with his friends, and, most importantly, the meticulous plan for treat acquisition.
To see him… he was just so excited. Up to the moon and back. For those two hours after dusk, he was a ball of energy, bouncing from one front door to the next, his eyes wide with curiosity for what the next treat (or trick) would be.
Watching him, it hit me. That same way a new landscape or a quiet moment on a trail does. It’s not always about what I like or what I find meaningful. Sometimes, the real magic is in letting go of your own perspective and just plugging into the joy of the people you love. My soul might not be richer from the candy, but it’s certainly richer from the experience.
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