I am not one who is wrapped up in the Christmas hype. I prefer to "gift" when I see a need, a want or a wish I can fulfill. I prefer to "cook" when the stars align and I have food in the house and company over at the same time. I do NOT prefer to "bake" at all, but I don't mind buying a few shortbread cookies. And writing ... "this" is where today's story begins.
I have all but stopped writing. I felt like I was wielding a poison pen and spewing raw emotion and negativity. So I stopped cold. I didn't blog, I didn't journal, I rarely email and I no longer write my weekly letter to Mom. I thought my thoughts had dried up and withered away.
Then I wrote one Christmas card.
The magic of feeling like I was sitting down and visiting the person I had addressed the card to returned. My pen flew across the page without thought or design. I just sat back and visited. And it felt a little bit wonderful.
I refused to turn this card-writing thing into a job, so I just wrote as names came to mind. I didn't make a list. I simply wrote. I wrote seven cards. Then I quit. I sat down a few mornings later and wrote four more cards. Then another. Then a few more. And another today. It not only "didn't hurt", but it actually felt good to sit and write. Very good.
In the spirit of the holidays, I (finally) decided to bring up our (very small) Christmas tree today. I brought out a favorite decoration.
Then my collection of angels. And one string of lights. Then I sat back and simply enjoyed the flavor of Christmas which has now been lightly sprinkled around the house.
Good enough!
I have spent my first holiday of the season accomplishing a few minor tasks. If I can just keep puttering away throughout this holiday, I may be able to start tackling more as the days gain momentum.
I am over the moon to be home for the holidays. No pressure. No worries. Just putting one foot in front of the other and savoring the moments as they arise.
It was a good day. I cannot wait to see what tomorrow brings...
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