December | 2015 | Open Space Practice, (AKA: A Thousand Shades of Gray)

1. My tiny family. Oh, how I love them.

2. The quiet of snow. When I first typed that, I accidentally wrote “the quiet of now.” That works too.

3. Presents for family in Oregon bought and wrapped and shipped. I’m glad to be done, and I hope the boxes make the trip in good shape and that my people like what I bought them. I also hope they know how much I love and miss them, that I would rather be sending myself to be with them on Christmas.

4. Christmas cookies. There are certain things that even though you could make them whenever you wanted, you only do at specific times of the year. This is a family recipe which has a slight hint of lemon and makes the softest chewiest melt-in-your-mouth cookies. They take two days because you have to chill the batter overnight, and then you roll it out and cut it into shapes and bake them, and once they cool, it’s time to make the powdered sugar frosting and decorate. The process is time and labor intensive, but they taste so good!

5. Time to rest. Wherever and whenever I can get it.

Bonus joy: cold clean water, a hot cup of tea, our fireplace DVD, Christmas music, the smell of pine trees, the crunch of snow, good TV, wool socks, clean sheets, a new bathroom that is nicer than anything I’ve ever had.

Lory State Park, image by Eric

1. I am completely exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a week. Do you ever feel like that, kind and gentle reader? So tired that it seems like it would take days and days and days of doing nothing but sleeping to recover?

2. Recovery is exactly what I need. I realized really quickly at the beginning of December that all the things I’d planned to do, to offer and to be, just weren’t going to happen. I was disappointed, but I had to let go, had to lower the bar, and had to be okay with that — and I am, mostly.

3. I’m calling my power back to me. All the ways I am extended and open, giving and doing, all the places where I am reaching out, I am pulling that all back in. Most importantly, I’m letting go of worrying what anyone might think about me doing less.

One wish: That we can settle in to the quiet of this season, sink into the truth of what we really need — love, stillness, nourishment, and rest.