×

The winter solstice

Remembering that taking it slow can be the right thing to do. (Photo provided — Diane Chase)

I am a checklist/sticky note type of holiday planner. My list can be long, complicated, and convoluted. I want to cross as many items off my list, but I have to work around my day job and family obligations like all of us. Neither task I’m willing or able to delegate to someone else. It is strange the number of duties we can unintentionally overload on ourselves.

My list doesn’t look any different than anyone else’s list of holiday chores:

1. Christmas Eve meal set.

2. Clean the house.

3. Ignore number two for as long as possible.

3. Have a glass of wine.

4. Buy more wine.

5. Debate making garland.

6. Actually make a garland.

7. Wrap gifts.

8. Revisit number three.

9. Bake goodies.

10. Pull together a Christmas card.

11. Print a Christmas Card.

12. Mail a Christmas card before Valentine’s Day, if at all.

I was trying to figure out why I make the holiday season so hectic. For example, I make cookies all year long, but for some reason, the thought of butter, flour, and sugar in December can send a shiver of fear down my spine. Christmas baking is a tradition that I love to hate until I’m eating those corn syrup sprinkles dumped onto a layer of buttercream.

I can’t imagine rolling out sugar cookies in the heat of the summer. Perhaps it’s because I use my front porch as a second fridge in the winter to chill the dough. Whatever the reason, some things taste right during a particular time of year.

When I get a bit manic with trying to squeeze in too many obligations, my mother-in-law’s winter solstice birthday reminds me to slow down my pace. The winter solstice marks the shortest day of the year and the first winter day. It serves as a time of reflection, acceptance, and peace.

I find it best to remind myself that I am enough, that my family has enough, and that I can permit myself to be enough. Realizing my checklist may never be complete allows me the opportunity to reach out to friends who are lonely, isolating, or overworked. I hope we can all give each other permission to leave incomplete lists and take time to rejuvenate rather than exhaust ourselves this holiday season. Stay safe!

Starting at $3.92/week.

Subscribe Today