Being busy seems to be a badge of honor on a regular day, but these last weeks of the year ratchet up the busy with all the holiday expectations. Chasing some ideal of getting it all done and making it perfect seems to make many people hate this season. I do get that crazy hope of achieving a blank to-do list. But there is a heavy Sisyphean aspect to this hope, and I really don’t want to hate this season.
I want to enjoy the glitter of the lights as I drive down a cold, dark street and feel pleased that so many people want to decorate their homes for me and the other passersby. The days may be shorter but festive lights offer a smile inducing alternative.
I want to take pleasure in the selection of gifts for the people on my list. (Luckily I have a fairly short list.) If I start early enough, then I can take the time to think about the person that I am shopping for, remember good moments, and hopefully pick out a gift that will be meaningful to them.
I want to savor the aromas when I bake breads or cookies to share. Many of the recipes that I use have been passed down and have become tradition. The recipe cards are written in handwriting of family members no longer with us, reminding me of past kitchen moments.
Yes, all of our regular tasks and obligations press in, and holiday expectations pile on top not temporarily take the place of the everyday. But it is only here briefly this time and we shouldn’t be so intent on making the season perfect for someone else that we miss out on the wonder for ourselves.
Hear the words of those carols playing in the stores, let them transport you to childhood wonder and delight. Just for a minute. Joy to the world and God bless us, everyone.
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