Once, some years ago, I had an experience that I always think about on Christmas Day.
I had been on a course of meditation for about six months, and as I got better at it, I found it very calming and peaceful. The exercise for that day was to fall back into myself, letting all of my usual thoughts and ideas go, and merely watching them pass me by as I fell back and back and down.
After about 20 minutes, I came to a curtain, which seemed to be black, and made of construction paper (when's the last time you even thought of construction paper!). As I watched, the paper began to lift, and behind it was a light, brighter than anything I'd ever seen. The light was so bright that it hurt my eyes, and I could feel myself backing away from it rapidly.
I adjusted my breathing and was able to get back to the curtain. This time, when I saw it, I felt myself ripping it aside. The light was still there, and the feeling was one of literally being hit by a Mack truck of love, like nothing I have experienced before or since. It was just the most peaceful, beautiful feeling, and for some time after that things that would normally have irritated the hell out of me (no pun intended) just didn't bother me at all.
Over the years, I've come to believe that that light, and that love, is the only real thing I've ever experienced, or ever will, and that it is there always, just on the other side of the curtain.
I wish that light, and that love, for everyone alive today. May your hearts be filled with the joy of Christmas -- even if you're not Christian -- and may you all find that light that surrounds us all of the time, and that waits there, just on the other side of that curtain.