Today I have a long list growing longer of things I could and should do, but I cannot commit myself to any tasks or to dos until I do this. I'm relenting. Nothing will be right until I write. I have been ignoring this truth the past week and I'm suffering for it. It's just that everything seems to be taking a little more energy than I have even as I've given myself permission to take it down a notch (or several) this holiday season. Despite my most concerted efforts to pare down the baking, cook healthy meals, decline too many party invitations, refrain from sending cards, attend church weekly, do less decorating and not overdue the gifts, I feel like there aren't enough hours in the day to just enjoy it...whatever it is. The consumerism, the desire to fill our days and nights with tradition and togetherness, and the inability to be or do it all starts to suck the spirit out of me. I struggle with keeping our focus on the meaning of Christmas while also celebrating all the wonder and delight this season brings. The messages of peace and goodwill are harder to hear it seems. They get trampled by the frenzy and endless festivities. It saddens me that there are times I find it hard to believe in anything especially when I turn on the news to daily atrocities. There is so much strife and discord. I cringe when T. Bone asks me what caused the Sandy Hook School shootings or if we are going to be okay after hearing reports of the fast approaching fiscal cliff. I stumble when Miss Bit asks me if I think the world will be ending December 21st or if snowmageddon will prevent Santa from coming next week.
I took T. Bone to school this morning in the dark. It was pouring rain. After I dropped Miss Bit off, I drove along the lakefront and couldn't believe the waves. It looked like the Pacific Coast. For a minute, I fantasized about getting on a plane tomorrow and jetting off to some faraway place for the rest of December. Not a warm, sunny island, but a cozy, quiet mountain cabin deep in the deserted woods. Diana Krall crooned White Christmas. My gaze was fixed on the white caps crashing up and over the break wall. Some time today this rain will turn to snow and we'll be granted our winter wonderland. I don't have a ticket to get out of here, but the next best thing might be getting snowed in. Paralyzed. Unable to do. Only to be.