I don’t quite know where I am going with this. I am of two minds. So, I am just going to type on.
Our Christmas tree is not “spectacular”. It is not a showcase. I am not dissing those who have those amazingly beautiful trees. I just can’t decorate like that. I don’t have the eye for it.
Our tree is made up of memories. Few decorations are “store-bought”. Some are treasures from family vacations. I chuckle whenever I place the clear glass ball filled with sand from P.E.I. (Prince Edward Island, Canada) on our tree. I can image the person who made it thinking, “How dumb are these tourists? Buying sand in a glass ball to hang on a tree!” But it is the memory of that trip which is what we actually purchased. The laugh we get when we remember we left our dog’s water dish on the side of the rode where we’d stop to take a photo.
Other ornaments are things someone has made for us. The happiness of that thought. That someone cherished us so much they took time out of their life to make a tree decoration.
Or those “horrible” tree decorations my daughter made in school. We still hang the “tongue depressor painted to look like Rudolph with some brown pipe cleaners for antlers” decoration that my daughter made in kindergarten. She is now a teacher – so that was a while ago.
At the very top – for safety reasons – we have cats! – we hang some cherished, delicate ornaments. They are from my grandmother’s tree. She passed away a very long time ago. I passed several of them to my daughter for her tree. I, also, have decorations from my parent’s tree. They haven’t put a tree in a long time. But I kept most of their ornaments. Which brings me to the photo.
One of my parent’s ornaments that I as a curious child poked my finger through. Did my mom throw it out because it was no longer beautiful? Or perfect? No. It was a memory of her child. Memories aren’t all of perfect moments. Life isn’t always beautiful.
Christmas is a stressful time for a number of reasons. A lot of which we put upon ourselves. Shop for the perfect gift. Perfectly decorate the house. The perfectly set table adorned with the perfectly cooked turkey and perfectly mounded mashed potatoes with perfectly lump free gravy and… yikes!
I have mentioned numerous times, I adore yoga. My fabulous teacher has managed to drill one thing into this old, cluttered mind – throw out what no longer serves you.
If being angry at someone no longer serves you – throw that crap away. If being angry at yourself because “you can’t do the perfect Christmas” no longer serves you – throw that anger out.
Go on. Take a big breath. EXHALE. As Paula, my yoga teacher, would say – let that shit go!
We will never be able to please “society”. They (whomever they are) will always find faults. Will always find non-perfection. Brush their thoughts away. Live your life. The way you choose. A perfect Christmas tree or a wonky one. Maybe a slightly over done turkey. Gravy spilled on the white Christmas tablecloth. A thrown-up cat hairball in someone’s slipper. These are the things that make Christmas.
So, take a moment. Take several. Forget making 6 different kinds of decorated cookies. No one’s life is going to be shattered because you didn’t make the cookies. Let them make their own cookies.
Stop scouring the stores looking for a perfect wreath to hang in your bathroom! It’s your bathroom! Does it really need a Christmas wreath?!?!?
Am I taking my own advice? Yup. I am not making the gingerbread display this year. I am sad about that decision. I like doing it. But there are only so many hours in the day. Will Christmas be a disaster because I didn’t make the gingerbread village. Nope.
Instead, I will sit on the stairs and commune with my Christmas tree. I will remember past Christmases, past memories, those who are no longer with us. I may shed a tear. I will smile. And that moment will be another memory.
Take care everyone. Take care of yourself.
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