A WEEK OF BEING STILL
How fitting that on a week we promised a post about finding time to read amid the hustle and bustle, we haven't found time to write said post. I'll be honest, I haven't had time to write, read, or even think these past few days. Or sleep. Here's the problem: I'm a chronic Christmas-over-doer. Although as bad as I am now, I'm a shadow of the beast of my Christmases past. Oh the stories I could tell. We're talking borderline crazy here, and if I'm being honest, maybe not that borderline. Pretty sure I rocketed right into full blown the year my husband woke up to find me hand painting Santa gift tags at 3 am.
I've scaled back. Way back. Partly because I woke up to the sheer madness of my ways, but mostly because I'm tired. This year I've crossed so many things off my overachieving, perfection-seeking list that I'm able to spread some actual Christmas cheer (not the hand painted tag variety) to my mom. I've come to New Mexico to spend a couple days with her. Smack dab in the middle of the madness, I mean, season. My old self would have gasped at the mere thought of such a brazen act.
Of course in order to pull it off, I had to throw myself into overdrive. The past few days have looked like my entire Christmas season used to: chaotic with a heaping side of exhaustion. Honestly, how did I do it? Or more importantly, why did I do it? The good news is my kids have fond memories of their childhood Christmases. I wonder though, would they have been less magical if I hadn't worked so hard at making them perfect? Something tells me not a speck of magic would have been lost—plus they'd of had the bonus of a more present mom.
I remember reading a post years ago about a tradition of the Pueblo Indians in Taos, New Mexico. At the end of every year, they close their pueblo to tourists for a week and have what they call "The Time of Being Still." The blogger went on to say she'd adopted that tradition for her little family during Christmas. For one week they'd step back from the holiday rush and spend time at home, enjoying the season together. You can read her lovely post here. I thought at the time, "a week of being still?" I'd be lucky to get one silent night. This year, with my girls home from their first semester of college, I'm feeling greedy. I want the whole week. And you know what? I'm taking it.
The icing on my Christmas cake? I had six glorious hours alone in the car yesterday to listen to my own music and most of Brené Brown's The Gifts of Imperfection. That's how you find time to read amid the hustle and bustle: you run away to home.