The finish line

I was experiencing darkness this year during the holidays. It was the underbelly of my being I was discovering; the imperfections I have. I was trying to understand how to field moments in a constructive way. We all have our expectations about what we want to happen and then what is really unfolding in our lives. If you pay attention, the holidays have a way of gifting you something new to learn about yourself, whether it's sentimental, communal or personal.

I trust myself to handle the dark moments; to be present with them and as compassionate as possible with myself; to ask for help - to believe I am worthy of asking for more help; to focus on and find the light; to value my being in relation to others; to temper how much I feel compelled to give; and to show up again and again as best I can. 

As I go to sleep, I feel surrounded by warmth, comforted by the light and satisfied by the contentment of our family snuggled in as the long dance of Christmas comes to an end. 

Note to self:

Sometimes I over do it; sometimes less is more. If you stick with simplicity, you end up being truly authentic and ultimately make yourself and others happy because the gift is just right. My new mantra: Next year, just make chocolate chip cookies. 

I remembered this when I thought about my neighbor's delightfully fresh sour dough and butter delivered the other day. It is a true treat from her - she will send one over at random and we love it. During the holidays, I spy her girls running up and down the block with fresh loaves of bread to drop off at houses and I love watching them do that.

When I was 6 hours in on baking today, I thought to myself, "where did the day go?" and, "I like baking, but I don't LOVE baking this much." I tried to make too many different types of holiday cookies. I had the best intentions: I was excited about some yummy recipes I found. But really when it gets down to it, I'm a chocolate chip cookie gal at heart and that was all I needed to do. I did that last year and it felt and looked great.

This year, I was compiling bags at 9 pm when I realized how silly I was for spending so much time doing this. By the time I was done, I had a decent treat, a classic great, and little bags of something I'm pretty sure will defrost and get thrown in the trash before people event taste them. I can't blame them.

Still, I do like to bring treats around to the neighbors. One of the best surprises I had when we moved in were the holiday treats others dropped off to us without even really knowing us. Every year, I relish the goodness that comes my way and that feeling of community with the people on our street. 

Grandkids

This is the way I prefer to give gifts: A few weeks ago, miss A and I were in a consignment store and found this old framed matte, it felt like synchronicity. It was perfect for my mother, who has 9 grandkids and is having a hard time remembering now. I had each kid choose an image they liked and put it in this frame for her. It's old school but kinda cool. 

One of my nephews kept sending images of himself partying, which weren't the most appropriate for my mom. It made us laugh though and in a few years, I will have a kick ass white elephant gift. 

We can't go back

We are drawn to the light; to the illumination of life. A candle that is our companion when no one is around. There is comfort in that flickering presence; a sense of hope we have as movement around us. 


In the darkness, we are left feeling othered; compelled to face the inward journey to our truth. The demons we meet along that path are ours alone. There is much to be feared in the potential that lies within each of us. There is also much to be discovered and revealed. We cannot fear our darkness, our underbelly. 


Fear is a tool used to keep us away from ourselves. We have been taught from birth, it is ours alone to confine. It is easy to not look in the direction, to not follow the curve of the path when you can’t see where it leads. So we stay tethered to what we know of this world and we help hold others in the same chains. 


In the darkness, we must let go and wander through a gateway that feels ominous. The mystery calls to us in a way we can’t ignore. So we lay our fear aside, a shaky companion we have learned to keep close. We lead on. From the other side, we see a world so curious and new. By nature of that first step, we know we can’t go back. 

Come to Jesus

Last night I ripped off the worn, ill fitting, loosely hanging bandaid called "Santa". Mads and I were alone and I asked her for a moment of truth and honesty: I asked her if she still believed in Santa. To which she academically replied, "Mom, there is no way one person can travel around the world in one night and give presents to every child."

I had a sneaking suspicion she was holding out for the gifts and she was the last kid standing in our house. I called her in for a hug because it was music to my ears. I know I sound like a Grinch but to be honest, I am just glad we are all out in the open about this now. I can happily load stockings and put things under the tree in a timely manner. I don't have to worry about hiding gifts that, if found, have to be wrapped and replaced with other gifts. 

It sounds crazy, right? It is. This is what we do to ourselves during the holidays in the plight to make our kids feel good; to make ourselves feel good. Though I love the magic of Christmas, it is a tiring commitment. 

This morning when Mads and I got up, I moved the elf in front of her, removing any lingering questions. It felt strange and low but also liberating. This is clearly a new phase we have entered and I couldn't be more excited. I still will happily share the magic of other kids but for my family, now maybe the beach at Christmas will seem much more appropriate.

Tread Carefully

We are all so tattered and worn these days. Feeling upside down and confused, wondering who we can trust and what we can do to change the trajectory we seem to be on. Woman to woman, we can take a moment to heal these tattered hearts. 

Our world is beautiful and frightening all at once. The light snow covers the slick ice. We must tread carefully and we must still get outside and breathe the fresh air. The days to come might ask a lot of us, I fear. But who you choose to be in this moment is who you chose to be when you came here.