Deeply Deep Thoughts on Holidays/the New Year
Really, it's no secret thing that I'm not fond of Christmas. It's not that I'm anti-Jesus, because I'm not, and it's not that I want to be So Super Scary and Dark, because I don't; I hate what it does to people. We're supposed to be awestruck about this story of humble beginnings and generosity, and instead we're busy trying to trample each other for a $200 flat screen TV at Wal-Mart. I love cold weather, but I don't like dealing with snow--I like to look at it, I think it's magic when it falls, but I hate shoveling, scraping, slipping, sliding, and slushing. If I could just look at it and not have to walk in it, that'd be alright.
However, I do love this time of year, really I do. It reminds me of my dad having time off work when I was younger, and my parents bringing home donuts in the middle of the night and getting us all up for a spontaneous donut party. It makes me think about how the trees are asleep, and it makes me grateful for how pretty they are all the other seasons. This stretch between Christmas and New Year's is precious.
Even though I'm a total grump through most of winter, this week gives me so much hope. A new year is coming, a completely fresh slate. All of the bad things that happened over the past year, they're gone and done; all of the good things, here's a chance for more! It's the season of If and Could: This could be the year that I lose 20 more pounds, grow my hair down to my ass, go back to college, move to Europe, become an international spy, build a treehouse, become a best-selling author, cure cancer, discover that I'm an heir to the throne, buy a pony, save a life, save myself... If things go right, If things line up, If I'm able, If I make enough money... If. It's the season of new promises.
And now if you'll excuse me, I must go begin drafting plans for my palace in the trees. You can come and visit, but only if you promise to bring cupcakes for me and oats for the pony, who will be named Fred.
However, I do love this time of year, really I do. It reminds me of my dad having time off work when I was younger, and my parents bringing home donuts in the middle of the night and getting us all up for a spontaneous donut party. It makes me think about how the trees are asleep, and it makes me grateful for how pretty they are all the other seasons. This stretch between Christmas and New Year's is precious.
Even though I'm a total grump through most of winter, this week gives me so much hope. A new year is coming, a completely fresh slate. All of the bad things that happened over the past year, they're gone and done; all of the good things, here's a chance for more! It's the season of If and Could: This could be the year that I lose 20 more pounds, grow my hair down to my ass, go back to college, move to Europe, become an international spy, build a treehouse, become a best-selling author, cure cancer, discover that I'm an heir to the throne, buy a pony, save a life, save myself... If things go right, If things line up, If I'm able, If I make enough money... If. It's the season of new promises.
And now if you'll excuse me, I must go begin drafting plans for my palace in the trees. You can come and visit, but only if you promise to bring cupcakes for me and oats for the pony, who will be named Fred.