Santa Train ride for Christmas Eve.

And I think back to a year ago. To a cold winter’s eve night in Paris. Huddled close to Maman. FoH wrapped in a blanket. Saint Chapelle candle lit.

Listening as Silent Night echoed off so painfully beautiful within those walls.

It was the first time I ever felt the truth of that song. I knew from there on, every Christmas Eve would have new meaning. I promised myself to remember that feeling.

It was one of total completeness. The kind of complete that just is — nothing else is needed nor wanted and you know that everything that you want and need you already have — because it is within you.

Merry Christmas Eve, People.