Feeling The Joy December 15, 2011
This time of year my wallet is full of lists, those crumpled up, half crossed off reminders that I still have things to do.
The best thing about lists, is drawing a line through the last item. I feel entitled to celebrate by hanging out at the book store with a gingerbread latte, making fun of the titles by adding “in bed with no clothes on.” Try it, it's funny. The Clockwork Prince In Bed With No Clothes On. See?
Lately though, when I peek into the vortex of disorganization that is my purse, I continually find unfinished lists, and that means no gingerbread latte for me. I begin to resent all the errands, which I now call 'things that get in the way of stuff I really want to do'.
I love the holidays...really I do, but sometimes the work involved in putting the Merry in Christmas leaves me exhausted and more bitter than Scrooge.
With baking, mailing packages, and making sure everyone knows their line (yes singular) for the Christmas play, I roam the Shopping Malls—otherwise known as the black hole of commercialism—and my holiday mojo gets sucked away. I drag my parcels through the parking lot, getting my coat dirty from brushing up against the salt encrusted cars. Bah humbug is right, life would be so much more enjoyable without all the fuss.
Then, on Sunday, I listened while someone talked about feeling the joy.
Feeling the joy?
How can I feel the joy when I have all of these things to do? If I don't wrap the presents and make the cookies, who will? Like most profound moments of epiphany, their answer was simple—you feel the joy in everything you do.
And truly, why delay the happiness? I realized I have a choice. Instead of begrudging the baking and shopping, I can be thankful that I'm able to buy my groceries instead of having to depend on the food bank to feed my family. And that baking with my kids is a chance to make a memory, not another chore to be completed.
There is a tangible sense of freedom when you exercise the choice to be happy.
I'm putting off dusting/vacuuming to read Christmas books with my kids. Instead of madly decorating to make everything perfect for a family party, I'm laying out all my ornaments for my beautiful nieces to have a go at the tree.
Today, I suggest you make the choice and feel the joy. Don't wait until everything is crossed off, because guess what—there's always something you forgot. So sit back, get a gingerbread latte, and read How the Grinch Stole Christmas In Bed With No Clothes On.
Cheers! *holding up latte*
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