I started baking for the holidays today. I've been going to bed each night for a week vowing to start the very next day, and then I don't. It was getting ridiculous.
Yesterday I forced myself to put up a tree. It's small and super cute. I suppose I should decorate the mantle. I've been saving and framing Christmas cards of madonnas or angels for decades, and I put them up each year. Lots of fine art and gold frames. They make me happy. It's like eating comfort food, only it is a visual feast. Okay, I have convinced myself. I'll do it tomorrow. I'm almost sure of it.
I'll wait to clean until just before the holiday. If I start now, I'll just have to do it again. Ha! I'm only partially kidding.
I'm not gonna lie, 2024 has been a hard year for me and mine. I'm trying to be strong, to be good, to rise above the fray. I can do that. But still, there is a simmering anger lurking below the surface. An ache, a wish for kindness and compassion. There's not much of that in this hard and callous world.
I struggle, wondering if I have not been kind enough myself, or if I have been too weak to be truly kind? What is the right balance? How much courage and character is required to be kind? I guess it has to start with me. At 73, I don't have all that much time left for bullshit.
I look forward to Christmas being over, and the new year to begin. There WILL be resolutions.
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| A small light in the darkness |
