Letter to the Reader: Yes, I know this is coming out later in January. And also, the world is wild and chaos is swirling. Being a human is hard right now. I see you. And late is better than never.
The holidays were simple and joyful for me and my family this year. I pray the same is true for you and yours. With each card prepared, dozen of treats prepared, and gift wrapped, I noticed something different this year. In years prior, as I completed each step of the holiday tasks there was an underlying current panic; were the cookies cooked well enough? Were the labels centered enough? Why can’t this process go faster? There’s no way I will get all of this done in time! No time for helpers, I have got to get this done! I would skip meals for days, lose hours of sleep multiple nights in a row, and run myself ragged just so that I accomplished it all.
Thankfully, this holiday season was different. I decided before hand what I would definitely do: I chose the commitments I would make to the kids’ class parties and the gifts for teachers and school staff. I decided who was going to receive treats and when they would receive them. I decided who was going to receive cards, and who got pictures with them. I decided that I would prioritize the things that mattered most: that the baking and cards got done, and the gifts were shared generously from the whole family.
Beyond that, I prepared myself to accept however it turned out. When one of my kids asked to participate in measuring the ingredients for the cookie dough and ended up with too much baking soda, I accepted that some of those cookies gifted would be crunchier than the others. I accepted that the treats we gifted included fewer types of treats than previous years, because it wasn’t worth rushing or try to make one more thing just so it would be the same as other years. And the Christmas cards, they didn’t get delivered until two days after Christmas in most cases, because of miscalculated mailbox pickups.
And what happened next? We went on to have the best holiday break I can remember ever having. We played card games, and talked honestly about our feelings around some of the season’s tough stuff. We talked about the movies and books that we like to watch or read and why. We made time to lounge around and time to go on adventures together. We made choices together beforehand about what we wanted the time to look like, and then we accepted whatever else turned up. With the decisions we made beforehand, and acceptance for the rest, we felt the freedom to be family together, in a way that will inform and enrich this next year of life together.
My hope for you, reader, is that no matter how chaotic the world gets, and no matter how rushed and how high expectations we have for ourselves, is that you take the time to choose how you want to respond. My hope is that you prioritize experiencing the freedom to be human, for you, and for the people in your care. Let’s meet this New Year, with a New Hunger for the Freedom to be.
