CHRISTMAS DAY (technically) and here I hope to make a strong effort at journal-keeping, notebook writing and general pondering -- and recording those musings.

But Christmas is always a time for contemplation and especially of looking back, to what these songs on the radio bring to mind, and the feelings explored as we understand the words of those carols and hymns in church. Christmas Eve has a general subtleness to it -- a subdued sense of activity when all outside is soft and slow, but knowing that inside the houses and all over the place, activity is heightened, frantic and fun. And at night, when the 5 o'clock hour usually brings busy streets and the traffic of rush hour, on Christmas Eve is perfect stillness -- for residential and suburban metro areas. Outside it's quiet as families have dinner, prepare, then head to church -- and even then the cars seem slower, quieter and people walk without the hurried urgency we feel during less festive -- and somber -- times.

With Christmas comes the end of another year, too, and it forces us to look back, as we always do, to consider where we've been and what we've done, and what needs to change. We're obsessed with time (as the coming year and jump into a new millennium will punctuate) and anniversaries mark time, providing a mechanism for looking back, for reconsideration. We think of the past year, and then last Christmas, and others before. These thoughts bring up more memories and achievements and soon I'm seeing myself leaving a second-grade classroom into a blizzard for the walk home -- any number of a million stored away not-so-random thoughts.

But it's a blessing, this reaction to look back, this tendency to remember and reminisce -- Because it makes us slow down. It gives us a chance to check our individual situations, take a collective breath before continuing at our own pace. The buildup wears us down -- shopping, sending cards, parties, wrapping, cookies, baking and planning -- But it all ends on the same night, whether snowy, warm, cold or clear, it's rarely stormy -- Always calm.

We sit back (because we're able to) and enjoy just where we are, to look around at who we are with and be thankful they're here, we're all together -- And we notice who's absent, for whatever reason, and remember them as they are, or were, where they are, or will be. It's built in as aprt of the system, the celebration, the makeup of our bodies and souls. It's something we rarely notice and barely take not of -- unless we may be fortunate enough to have pen in hand.