I always feel quieter this time of year. There’s hustle and bustle around me, and I’m busy with holiday preparations myself. But I also feel…quiet. And decidedly not crazy. I work (it takes conscious effort) to not succumb to the crazy at this time of year.
There are stories out there about the perfect this and the perfect that. Thanks to social media, we have a steady stream of snippets (visual and verbal) of what others are doing and having and how they’re being. And sometimes that’s inspiring. And sometimes it’s overwhelming. It’s easy to cross that line.
Nobody’s anything is perfect. Parts of it might be very pretty. But guaranteed, there’s grit there too. As we move towards the close of this year, I’m reflecting on the pretty parts of this past year; I’m also thinking about the gritty parts…the times I stumbled, the times I cried, the times my heart broke. Those parts colored my experience, and I want to honor them too.
And so, on the heels of Solstice and on the (almost) eve of Christmas, I invite you to take a few moments to look around you. Take it in…your life. The dishes, the crumbs on the counter, the twinkle lights, the book you’re reading or writing, the about-to-overflow garbage pail, the sunlight falling onto the floor. Just get still for a few moments and see the messes right alongside the beauty.
The shopping will get done, the wrapping will get done, the gathering will get done. But will you take these moments to notice? A pause here and a pause there make all the difference. They really do. I know because I’ve learned to take them…am still learning…am still practicing (because I forget sometimes) (and I need to be reminded).
Wherever you call home and whatever you celebrate this time of year, I wish you peace and joy and stillness. I wish you pause and reflection. I wish you cookies and hugs and merriness. I wish you goodness.
Sending a little (extra) love your way, m