It has been one Christmas decorated week since I've written and my home smells like pine and cinnamon. Due to my cats and golden retriever, I have retrimmed the bottom of the tree more than I would have liked. Ornaments fly, beads fall, but I confess, I love having many pets, I love Christmas and wouldn't change a thing...
But it seems I'm already confessing...
To the confessional--
I confess I have been preaching "small Christmas," "simple Christmas" and I have failed miserably. Let me be honest, I love to buy people gifts. I see something and think it would be perfect for them.
Or I see quite a few good options, feel overwhelmed about my list and the next thing I know, I have someone's birthday, Christmas, and next year's birthday present all ready for them. Or what I called "the unnamed gift" - the gift I bought knowing it would be a good gift for someone, but I'm not exactly sure who.
This part of Christmas is hard for me because the shopping of Christmas goes against my inner simple life girl. It goes against the part of me that rants about needless consuming and having/keeping/maintaining too much stuff.
I so dislike shopping (even for myself) and so dislike malls, and yet, Christmas has me bidding for things on eBay and yes, buying more than I thought I would.
One thing it really reminds me of is that the less you go into stores, the less you need.
An amazing miracle of the non-shopper, I get by on less because I have no idea there are any other options!
Oh Christmas, I struggle with your spirituality and your bright lights. Why I could have written a book on this. Oh wait....
I confess I have not stepped into a mall this entire Christmas season and won't. They frighten me.
I confess I went into the $1 store to buy felt for my homemade gifts and left with the above (see photo above) -- a small ceramic box of Joseph, Mary & Jesus to bring on my writing retreat. It is quite odd for me to purchase this, but it just spoke to me. Maybe I was trying to slowly move back into the spiritual aspects of my life. And while I see the irony of purchasing this spiritual-rememberance box at the $1 store, it helps me stay grounded when I feel myself being plunged into the tinsel.
I confess I do like being plunged into the tinsel sometimes.
I confess I like that Christmas makes me have to think about who I am, who I was, and where I'm going.
I may never get this right, but I try.
I am hoping my writing retreat does what it always does-- brings me to a place where I realize one bowl and one cup is enough, where time > money, where the world slows to place that I can hear the ice cracking on the roof, where I can go outside and hear the hum of the planet spinning in its very own corner of the universe and remember that we are all here trying to get it right. And we do sometimes.
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