I live my life by a “to-do” list. Sometimes, my to-do lists are actually excel files with multiple sheets. Okay, let’s stop lying here: almost always my to-do lists are excel files with multiple sheets. I like my lists. They make me feel organized and in control. As I’ve been on sabbatical, my to-do lists have gotten a workout. Honestly? Sabbatical has been work for me – just work of a different kind. I’ve been focused on home and hearth and not saving the world, one health center at a time.
But around this time of the year, my to-do list takes on extra significance. We always pilgrimage to New Orleans sometime in November or December to see my in-laws and I like to have everything super organized for the trip and my kitty sitters (family friends who I don’t want to let down and let’s face it, I’ve got a brood here). I also make sure I have everything for Christmas for my in-laws in case we’re not there on the day. Add on to that the fall cleanup that was just completed and the holiday prep cleaning and decorating and my to-do list often has several sheets. At some point a few years ago, I started saving the spreadsheets to reuse each year. It does make it easier, even if that makes me a total nerd.
This week is the crazy week for the list. Next week is Thanksgiving week and all the merriment officially begins. So this week? It all needs to get done. I started the week with about 30 things on the to-do list. I’m happy to report that it’s Tuesday afternoon and I’m at 18 left. A few of those left are small, too, so it belies the amount of work left on my docket. While I won’t be satisfied until all surfaces are dusted, the vacuum has been run everywhere, the bathrooms and kitchen have been cleaned as good as I can do and there’s extra linens for every bed, I’ll get there. The big anomalous tasks are already done.
But one thing I do starting this week is also plan my nightly escape. It’s about a 20-minute meditation that I started giving myself a few years ago. And honestly? It makes the season incredibly magical for me. Let me explain.
A few years ago, I found these white ceramic Christmas trees with tiny holes in them that, when you turn them on they cast what appears to be stars on the walls and ceiling. At first, I just put them at the foot of our bed and turned them on each night just as its getting dark simply as a soft light. Then, one day I walked in, glanced at the ceiling and realized it made the room look magical. I shut the door to keep out the light pollution from the hallway light, crawled onto my side of the bed and laid there just staring.
I let my mind wander and it took me back to Christmases as a kid or as a teen-ager and how magical they still felt. Pretty soon, I had that feeling. You know the one. It’s the one you used to experience only around the holidays when you were young enough and idealistic enough to still dream. That year, I found myself doing it almost every night of the holiday season and since then, I do it just the same. Amazingly enough, I still get that feeling every time. For just a few minutes each day, time stands still and there is no past or present, just the magic of now. Honestly? It’s incredible and I look forward to doing it every night. Sometime just after the new year, the feeling will start to wane and eventually the trees go away until the next year. But when the trees come out again? The magic happens all over.
As I’m working down the list these days, the nightly escape to our room beckons just a little more everyday about 5 p.m. It just completes the day in a way I don’t think I can do justice in trying to explain. And when Sunday rolls around, my house is clean and it’s Thanksgiving week? Oh man, that’s the sweet spot. That means I have less “busy” to do and more time where I can escape into my little retreat and just be.
So, I’m motivated here. I’ve got exactly four days to finish those final 18 tasks (plus any more that sneak onto the list). And then? This year, I am planning on sinking into the holidays much as I did when I was a kid. After the holidays, I can break out the worry and my lists again. But come Sunday? It’s me and those fairy lights until Epiphany.
The Yuppie Homesteader 