It’s December 4th and I just decided to not
prioritize my novel, my work, for the entire month of December, as there is always
so much tension and never enough time this time of year. The decision was
troubling to me…especially since I also recently decided play hooky from my writing
group in December. If I am working so hard on self-care and love then why was I
so willing to sacrifice my work? Why are Ramona’s performances, her birthday
party, holiday festivities more important? Isn’t this self depreciation?
No.
December is a time for me to withdraw into care for home, family,
friends, but also for self. The hearth. It is the time to get the house together,
to renew, to re coup. To pack up the old useless stuff and send it off.
Our work – who we are in the world and the mark we leave-,
if we tap into our innermost selves, is our true voice. But nothing can always
be on; eternal growth is capitalist myth. The voice needs rest. Minds need to
digest. Ideas need to percolate. Our private lives need to be honored. Even
machines wear out if you leave them on all the time.
In December I get my house in order. I honor home and care. I
read the books that have being piling up in my “to read” stack. I purge and
clean my house to ready it for our guests/friends and to make space for the new
year. I focus my attention on giving and decorating for friends and holidays. I
hold no expectations nor cling to outcomes. I make sure my daughter knows how
important she is and I prioritize her winter performances; the costumes, rehearsals,
the tickets, transportation; you know, things that the world doesn’t really
think matters. Withdrawing is part of the cycles life. It moves us into the
future. It is ending a cycle and preparing for the next. Its looking in and
taking care.
I used to complain about Ramona’s birthday being in
December, but now I see the blessing. It has changed me. It has shown me how to
submit to the cycles, and a whole, rich life. A plant can not always be in
bloom, lest it wither and die.
In January it will be 2017. A new year.
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